


The Deal

by hunter_king



Series: Supernatural - Wincest [41]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Barebacking, Bottom Sam Winchester, M/M, Rimming, Slash, Spoilers for Season 4, Swearing, Top Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 09:40:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 50,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17444450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunter_king/pseuds/hunter_king
Summary: To save Dean from his deal, Sam strikes a desperate deal of his own with a crossroads demon. Like most demons, he has a thing for Sam, and offers him the option of giving himself over fully to him for one week. 7 days of being the crossroads demon's slave, and Dean's contract is broken. Willing to do whatever it takes to keep his brother from going to Hell because of him, Sam agrees. What happens over the next 7 days breaks Sam almost to the point of no return. When he is finally returned to his concerned brother, Dean vows to take revenge on every black eyed sonuvabitch that was involved. And Dean Winchester never breaks a promise.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the sammybigbang in 2019  
> Beta'd by jdl71  
> Based on the prompt by Imogen_lily

Time was running out. They'd been spending most of their free time at Bobby's place researching everything they could get their hands on, but nothing was coming up. Nothing was working in their favor, and it was really starting to weigh on Sam. His brother was going to Hell in a few short months, and so far, there was nothing Sam could do to stop it. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to keep trying. Sam refused to accept this.

Why did Dean have to bring him back from the dead? Dean knew better than anyone how it felt when someone sacrificed themselves. He'd been broken up and ripped apart over it when their father had done it for him. Now, Dean had gone off and done the same damn thing to Sam! And he knew it was selfish – he'd _admitted_ it to Sam – but he didn't care. According to Dean, he was allowed to be selfish. And sure, while Sam could see where Dean was coming from, he didn't like it. Just because Dean had always done everything for the family didn't give him the right to put this on Sam now.

And they couldn't even talk about it. Every time Sam tried to bring it up, Dean would do one of two things – he'd either change the subject, or he would distract Sam with sex. And while Sam wasn't complaining about the sex, they needed to talk about this. Dean didn't have a lot of time left, and Sam _wouldn't_ watch him die.

Sam was letting his emotions get the best of him right now. He needed to get some air. Quickly, he pushed himself off the couch where he was sitting with Dean, mumbling that he needed a break as he headed out the front door. The cars in Bobby's salvage yard offered him enough shield from any prying eyes from inside the house, which Sam was grateful for. Sighing, he leaned against an old green Pontiac, taking a few steadying breaths.

He wished he was dead. It wasn't the first time either. Sam felt guilty for everything that was happening. If Dean had just left him for dead, he wouldn't have to worry about all of this. Dean wouldn't be going to Hell in a few months, and they wouldn't be in this position. Sam would just be dead – not a burden to anyone around him anymore. Hell, if it wasn't for Sam, Dean could be living a normal life right now. He could have been anything he wanted, with a wife, and a big house, and white picket fence. Maybe have a few rugrats running around.

But no – Dean was a hunter, and he was staring down Hell because of Sam. That was something else they weren't allowed to talk about. Any time Sam brought up their past – anything to do with their parents, Dean instantly went radio silent. He clammed up, and Sam couldn't get him talking for hours. Or he'd just leave and stay out until he thought Sam was asleep. And Sam didn't dare bring it up again once Dean came stumbling back into their motel room.

Still, Sam couldn't help feeling like everything about their lives was his fault. Azazel had only come into their lives because he wanted Sam. If Sam hadn't been born, that night would have never happened. Dean would still have both of his parents, and he could be living a totally different life. Everyone he'd ever come into contact would have a completely different life. 

Mary would still be alive if it wasn't for Sam. And that meant that John would have never gotten into hunting in the first place, which meant he would be alive today. And Jessica wouldn't have met Sam, so she'd be alive and probably married with kids by now. None of them had gotten a chance to live out their lives to the fullest because Sam had made them all targets for a demon.

And now Dean was a target. If Sam had just killed Jake when he had the chance, Dean never would have had to sell his soul to bring Sam back. Sam was _toxic_. Everyone around him died, and there was nothing Sam could do to stop it. Even now – all of his time spent researching, and everything he'd done to get Dean out of his deal up to this point hadn't meant anything. Dean was still dying, and it was still all Sam's fault.

He remembered the day he learned about Dean's deal like it had been yesterday. Sam had been so pissed, and he didn't hide it from Dean like he usually would have. He _wanted_ to fight that night. Ellen had interrupted them before they could get everything sorted out at the cemetery, but when they got back to Bobby's place, Sam had let Dean have it.

 _“Sammy, what's wrong with you?” Dean asked, frowning as he tossed his duffel onto the bed he and his brother shared when they spent time at Bobby's place. They'd been sleeping together ever since Sam got back from Stanford, and Bobby was one of the only people aside from them that knew. So when they stayed here, he let them have the bed in the spare room, and gave them as much_ alone _time as he could._

 _Although Dean was never rewarded for his academics, Sam knew that his brother couldn't possibly be_ that _stupid. “What's wrong with me?” he scoffed, turning on Dean. “You know damn well what's wrong with me, Dean!”_

 _Frowning, Dean tried to remember if he had done anything stupid on the car ride over here that may have upset Sam. He'd been singing along to that_ Zepplin _song, but Sam didn't usually care about that. So yeah, he was drawing a blank. “Um...refresh my memory?” he asked, smiling at his brother._

 _If Dean thought that he was being funny, the older Winchester was sadly mistaking. “You're not funny,” Sam accused, shooting Dean one of his signature bitch faces. “What you did_ isn't _funny!” Seeing that Dean was still looking at him like he had three heads, Sam yelled, “You sold your soul for me, Dean!”_

_Dean couldn't help but roll his eyes when Sam explained what his problem was. They'd been over this at the cemetery. And Dean didn't want to talk about it anymore. “Sam, we've been through this,” he started, tugging his jacket off. He was tired. All he wanted to do was get out of these clothes and get some sleep. Well, after he and Sam celebrated their victory, he wanted to get some sleep. “We just killed the demon! You wouldn't let me celebrate at the cemetery, so why don't you let me celebrate now?”_

_His eyes roamed over Sam's body, taking it all in. No matter how much Dean looked at Sam, he could never get over just how sexy his geeky little brother had grown up to be. A wide smirk came to his lips as Dean reached for Sam's hand, lacing their fingers together. “Come celebrate with me, Sammy,” he suggested, biting into his plump bottom lip. “There are_ so _many things I wanna do to you right now, baby.”_

_Normally, Sam would have been all for celebrating. But as far as he was concerned, there was nothing worth celebrating right now. “No, Dean,” he argued, pulling his hand from Dean's grasp. “We haven't been through this. You can't just tell me that you have a year to live, and expect me to be okay with it!”_

_Again, Dean rolled his eyes. “You don't have a choice but to be okay with it, Sam,” he reminded his little brother. “It's already done. There's nothing you can do to stop it. In a year, I'm getting dragged to the pit, and you get to still be here. So, let's make the most of the year we have left, Sam. Let's not waste it by fighting, and brooding, and pouting like you do when you don't get your way.”_

_Anger bubbled through Sam when Dean spoke. “Do you even listen to yourself when you talk, Dean?!” he asked, glaring at the older man. “How did you feel when you found out Dad did the same thing for you?! Were you happy about it, Dean? Were you_ okay _with it?!” Shaking his head, Sam answered his own question before Dean had a chance to do so. “No, you weren't! You were a mess! You were angry all of the time!” Scoffing, Sam spat, “I mean, you said it yourself, Dean –_ what's dead should stay dead _– and I was dead! I should've stayed that way!”_

 _Now, it was Dean's turn to get angry. “Don't you dare say that to me!” he ground out, angry jade green eyes locking with equally fiery champagne hazels. “I wasn't just going to let you die! I need you, Sam! I'm_ nothing _without you!” Scoffing, Dean dropped his gaze to the floor, shaking his head. “I was supposed to protect you, Sammy. To take care of you. And I lost you. And the thought of you being gone was too much. I had to do this.”_

 _“You didn't_ have _to do anything, Dean!” Sam argued. He could tell that his death had affected his brother, but this wasn't the right way to go about things. “You did this for you. It was selfish! And now what? I'm just supposed to sit back and watch you die? How can you expect me to do that?!”_

_Dean locked eyes with Sam once more. “Yeah, it was selfish,” he agreed. “But I don't care. My whole life, I've done nothing but be here for this family. I put you and Dad before myself every time an opportunity presented itself. I let you leave me to go to Stanford and try to live some apple pie life, and I didn't say a word about it! But there was no way I was going to let you stay dead. And you can't fault me for that!”_

_The fact that Dean thought Sam couldn't fault him for this was laughable. “Oh, I can fault you for this!” he assured his brother. “Because this is your fault! Making a deal to bring me back is your fault! No one twisted your arm or held a gun to your head. You made this call on your own, and now I'm the one who has to deal with the consequences, Dean! You don't! You'll be gone! And I'll be the one here._ Alone _. Did you even think for one second how that might affect me?”_

_Shaking his head, Dean answered honestly, “No, Sam, I didn't. The only thing I was thinking at the time was that you were dead, and I needed to bring you back.” He moved closer to Sam, pulling the younger Winchester against his body as he allowed his eyes to roam over Sam again. “I got a year to live, Sammy,” he reminded. “Do you wanna spend that year being pissed at me, or do you wanna spend it living it up with me?”_

_A year – that's how much time he had left with his brother. Unless he could figure out a way to make this right. He'd fix this one way or another. “Fine,” he breathed, relaxing slightly into Dean's embrace. “I'll live it up with you, as you call it. But you're not going to die in a year, Dean. I'm going to fix this. I'll get you out of this deal, and we'll be alright. We always are.”_

_Although Dean knew his brother couldn't help him out of this without dying himself, Dean didn't want to drop that bombshell on him just yet. All that would do was lead to more fighting, and he'd had it already with the arguing. This was happening. And there was nothing either one of them could do to stop it. “Just shut up and kiss me, Sammy,” Dean ordered, his hand gripping Sam's shaggy chestnut hair as he pulled him into a rough, passionate kiss._

The sound of boots crunching against gravel brought Sam back to the present. He graciously accepted the beer that was thrust toward him, popping the cap and taking a long pull. “You looked like you could use this, son,” Bobby grimaced, squinting at Sam in the bright sunlight. Damn, the kid was getting taller – Bobby was sure of it. “How are you holding up? Have you been gettin' any sleep at all?”

Sleep? Sam wasn't even sure he knew what the word meant anymore. Sure, he'd catch a few hours here and there, but it wasn't peaceful by any means. All he did was have nightmares about his brother going to Hell. Sam thought for sure he'd dream about his time being dead, but he hadn't at all. Not once. He couldn't remember anything at all from that time. Bobby had a theory that it was because Dean wouldn't accept he was dead, so Sam was stuck in limbo, unable to move on. Sam had been dead for four or five days before Dean finally made the deal, but Dean hadn't had any sort of funeral for him. It was as good a theory as any, Sam supposed.

Maybe it was for the best that he didn't remember. Sam didn't want to have to think about Heaven or Hell right now. Honestly, he was starting to wonder if Heaven was even a thing. Usually, Dean was the one who was skeptical about God, and a better place, and all of that. But now, Sam found his own faith beginning to slip. Dean had a point – if there was a Heaven, a God, why did bad things always happen to good people? It didn't make sense.

Sighing, Sam nodded finally. “Yeah, I got a few hours last night,” he assured Bobby. “But with the nightmares, I just...haven't been getting much.” He'd told Bobby about his nightmares when they first started happening, so he wasn't afraid to talk about it now. Dean didn't know about them, though, so when they were around other people, they kept it quiet. “Have you heard from that lead in Oregon that you were trying to contact?”

“Yeah, it was a dead end,” Bobby frowned, taking a swig of his own beer. “I'm sorry, Sam. I wish I had better news. How about that demon girl that's been hanging around ya? Has she made herself known since the last time?” Although Bobby didn't like it, he knew Sam thought she could save Dean. At least that's what she told the younger man. He wasn't all that sure if he believed it – demons lied, after all – but Sam believed it, so there was nothing anyone could say to make Sam stop seeing her.

Shaking his head, Sam frowned. “No, she's been quiet,” he answered. He hadn't seen her since he'd taken the Colt and used it on that crossroads demon. Apparently, it had made Ruby mad. Sam didn't understand what her problem was. She wasn't doing anything to keep Dean from having a first class ticket to Hell, so Sam had to try everything.

The look on Sam's face had Bobby frowning again. When the younger Winchester got an idea in his head, it was really hard to get him to drop it. “Sam,” he started, head cocked to the side as he studied Sam's face. “Yer not thinkin' about doin' anything stupid, are ya, boy?”

Sam frowned at Bobby's words, taking another pull from his beer. “Nothing more than the usual, Bobby,” he assured the older man with a chuckle. Their whole lives were spent doing stupid things. Hunters ran toward the danger that everyone else was running away from. So yeah, in that aspect, he was being stupid. But he knew that wasn't what Bobby had been asking him. He knew Bobby was worried Sam was looking to make a deal. And while it had crossed Sam's mind a few times, he wasn't that desperate. Not yet.

Again, Bobby frowned. “You know what I'm talkin' about, Sam,” he replied sternly. It would be just like a Winchester to offer themselves up to get the other out of their contract. Honestly, Bobby wished that these boys would have learned their lesson with making demon deals, but unfortunately, he knew they weren't exactly the brightest bulbs in the box when family was involved. It was like they were trying to outdo the other when it came to saving each other. It was stupid.

“I'm not going to make a deal, Bobby,” Sam assured him. Not right now anyway. Maybe later, if they couldn't find anything else, Sam would resort to drastic measures like that to get Dean out of his contract, but there was still a little bit of time. There were still a few things Sam could look into before he made that decision. But if it came down to it, Sam wouldn't hesitate to offer his soul up in place of Dean's. After all, he was the one who was supposed to be in the ground, not Dean.

Satisfied that Sam was telling the truth, Bobby nodded, finishing off his drink. “I'm gonna head back in and make sure yer brother hasn't summoned anything from one of those books he keeps putting his hands on. Don't stay out here too long. We might need ya.” With that, Bobby headed off toward the house, leaving Sam alone with his thoughts once more.

**~~**

It had been a long day, and Dean was beat. He'd originally planned on heading out to the bar with Sam, but that plan had been shot to Hell when his brother shoved all of this damn research on him. Dean knew he should tell Sam that they needed to stop looking for a way out of this – he was going to Hell, and there was nothing either one of them could do about it – but he just didn't have the heart. Sometimes, when Sam looked at him, Dean could see the pure hopelessness behind those eyes, and it made his chest ache.

Now, they were in the spare bedroom they shared at Bobby's place, and Dean had just one thing on his mind. _Sammy_. His eyes roamed over his brother's body, Dean biting into his plush bottom lip as he thought of all the things he could do to that beautiful man if he'd take his clothes off. “C'mere, Sammy,” he breathed, finger hooking into Sam's belt loop as he tugged Sam closer to his body. 

Before Sam could protest, Dean had him flush against his body, his brother's hands already working at the fastenings of Sam's jeans. “Dean,” he protested without gusto, rolling his eyes at the older man. Only his brother would be more worried about sex than finding a way to get him out of his demon deal. “Dean, come on. We have to be up early tomorrow.”

The last thing Dean was thinking about right now was how early they had to be awake the next day. When he'd gotten over the initial shock of the deal, Dean had spent countless hours working on his own bucket list. And he intended on checking off every item from his list before those Hellhounds came after him. “But Sammy, the bucket list,” he pouted, nipping at his brother's collarbone as he stuffed his hand down the front of Sam's boxers.

When Dean mentioned the bucket list, Sam couldn't help but roll his eyes again. That damn bucket list really got on Sam's nerves. Every time Dean brought it up, it just reminded Sam that he had failed his brother. He was about to protest again, but Dean's hand wrapped around his already semi-hard cock, and Sam bit back his words, moaning softly. “D-Dean,” he breathed, forehead resting against his brother's temple as he tried to keep his thoughts in order. “We don't have any supplies here for your bucket list. No ropes, or cuffs, or anything to tie me up. I thought that was what we're checking off next.”

Hearing Sam talk about himself being bound had Dean's cock twitching in the confines of his jeans. “Well, yeah, but I want you now,” he argued, tongue darting out to lick at Sam's parted lips. “We can just check off the one about having sex at Bobby's house.”

Again, Sam rolled his eyes at Dean, his hips rolling against his brother's palm as Dean continued to work him. “Dean, we've had sex at Bobby's house before. Lots of times.” They were always sure to keep quiet so Bobby didn't hear them, but it wasn't like they'd never done it here before. 

“I know,” Dean assured Sam, tugging at him with his free hand in an attempt to get Sam's Sasquatch ass over to the bed. “But we haven't done it since I made the deal, so it made the list.” He smiled up at his brother when Sam gave him one of his signature bitch faces. God, he loved it when Sam looked at him like that. “Get on the bed. C'mon, don't deny me my dying wish, Sammy.”

Although he didn't argue with Dean anymore, Sam moving toward the bed and flopping down onto it, he did have a problem with Dean's _dying wish_. “Dean, getting me off in the Impala while you forced me to listen to that stupid song the other day was your _dying wish_. How many dying wishes do you get?”

Removing his own jeans and boxers in one swift move, Dean promised, “As many as I can squeeze out, Sammy.” He made quick work of getting his shirt off before he joined Sam on the bed, shoving the younger man's clothes out of the way as quickly as he could. “Don't fight with me about this,” he begged, not wanting to have to deal with that. He and Sam had been fighting a lot more than usual lately, and he just wanted it to stop. “I know you want this, too.”

Sam didn't want to fight either. And he wasn't fighting with Dean, per se. He was merely asking a question. “M'not fighting with you,” he slurred, hips rolling upward to meet Dean's when his clothes were out of the way. “I do want this. I _always_ want you, Dean. You know that.” His cheeks turned a bright shade of pink at the admission, but he needed to have it out there.

A deep moan hummed low in Dean's throat when Sam burned with embarrassment. He loved it when Sam talked himself into dirty little secrets. “Mmmm, you better, baby,” he breathed, nipping along the long column of Sam's throat. “You're mine, right Sammy?” 

Being that they'd been in a relationship for almost three years, Sam knew that Dean liked a little dirty talk before they actually got to the good stuff. “Yeah, Dean,” he whispered, teeth scraping along his brother's stubbled cheek. “M'yours. Only yours.” His hands gripped Dean's hips, using it as leverage as he rubbed their hard members together. “Show me. Show me who I belong to, D.”

Another moan escaped Dean at Sam's words. God, he loved it when Sam begged him. Sure, he had a possessive streak – he was aware of it. But it was only when Sam was involved. Well, Sam and the Impala, but that was a different story. “Don't worry baby,” he whispered, tossing Sam's left leg over his shoulder. “I'm gonna show you. M'gonna take care of you.”

Dean made quick work of opening Sam up for him, biting into his bottom lip to stifle the loud moans that wanted to break from him as he watched his brother writhing beneath him. Once he could fit three fingers inside Sam easily, he spit into his palm, stroking his cock to get it wet for Sam. “You ready, baby?” he asked, positioning himself outside of Sam's prepared hole.

While Sam could appreciate that Dean didn't want to move too fast and hurt him, he knew damn well that he was ready for him. “Yes,” he all but hissed, pushing his body back to meet Dean's dick impatiently. It wasn't his fault. Sometimes, he was convinced that Dean just did these things to him on purpose so he could mess with him. Sam hated it sometimes.

When Sam pushed back against him like that, Dean bit hard into his bottom lip, squeezing the base of his cock roughly so he didn't cum right there. Damn his brother and his ability to make Dean lose control like this. “God Sammy, so eager, huh?” he chuckled, slowly pushing inside Sam inch by inch until he was buried to the hilt. His lips crushed hard against Sam's as Dean started to move, one hand fisting in the younger man's unruly mop of hair.

They tried to keep quiet because Bobby was in the room down the hall, but Sam had a problem with keeping his moans in check. Luckily, if Bobby did hear them, he didn't come to investigate. Dean slapped his hand over Sam's mouth when the younger Winchester's back arched off the bed, hot ropes of cum coating both his and Dean's bellies. It wasn't long after that Dean was falling over the edge with his brother, his head falling to rest on Sam's shoulder before he nipped the skin there.

Dean almost forgot to roll off Sam before he flopped onto his back on the mattress, breaths still panting out of him. “Damn Sammy,” he panted, rolling onto his side to face his brother. “Do you think you woke up the whole neighborhood, or just Bobby?”

Chuckling, Sam playfully slapped Dean in the arm. “Shut up, jerk!” he chastised, shaking his head. “It wasn't like I was the only one making some serious happy noises there. You just have a lower voice than I do.” Sighing, he rolled onto his side facing Dean, one hand moving so he could trace the lines of Dean's tattoo. “I love you,” he whispered, biting into his bottom lip as his gaze ticked up to meet Dean's.

“I know you do,” Dean assured Sam with a smug smile. “I love you, too. Now get some sleep. I don't want to have to deal with you if you're in one of your bitchy moods tomorrow because you didn't get your beauty rest.” Dean chuckled when Sam hit him again, shoving his brother onto his opposite side so Sam could be the little spoon. It wasn't long before the two of them were sleeping, Dean's soft snores sounding in Sam's ear the only noise in the room.


	2. Chapter Two

Another three days had passed by in a blur of research and beer. Sam had been spending countless hours pouring over everything he could find both online and in Bobby's multiple voluminous text books, and still, he couldn't find anything. He didn't know how to save his brother. And he was becoming more and more desperate as the days went on. If they didn't find anything soon, Sam was going to have to resort to drastic measures. 

His thoughts as of late were becoming darker. It scared Sam. Not because he was shocked by the lengths he would go to save his brother. He was well aware of their codependency issues – every demon they ever came across would make sure to let them know about it. No, he was scared because he knew that if they didn't find something by the end of the week, Sam was going to make a choice. He was going to summon a crossroads demon – if any of them were brave enough to show their faces after what he did to the last one – and he was going to make a deal. His life for Dean's.

Sam was ready to die. He _should_ have been dead already. But of course, Dean made some stupid deal and brought him back. Sam would make sure Dean couldn't play that card again. And yeah, it was selfish, but if Dean was allowed to be, then so was Sam, dammit! Dean was the only thing that kept Sam going most days. So if he had to make a deal with a demon to save his brother, his lover, his _everything_ for as long as he could remember, Sam would do just that. 

After another three hours of research, Dean was finally done. “Sammy, let's get out of here for a while,” he suggested, closing the book he was browsing through. “I need some food in me. And maybe another drink. And I just need to stretch my body.” His eyes danced with mischief as his finger slowly moved to slide down Sam's arm. “Or...maybe you could stretch my body,” he suggested.

His brother had no shame. Sam's cheeks flushed a deep red as his eyes ticked over to Bobby at Dean's suggestion. Luckily, if the older man heard what Dean said, he wasn't showing any signs of it. “I thought you were hungry,” Sam reminded, eyes still on the book in front of him. Unlike Dean, Sam didn't slack off where research was concerned.

“I am,” Dean answered with a nod, his hand sliding off Sam's arm and falling under the table into his lap instead. “But I'm not just hungry for food, Sammy. If you get what I'm saying.” Dean's palm pressed against Sam's crotch as another smirk came to Dean's lips. God, Sam was so sexy when he blushed like that.

When Dean's hand landed on his crotch, Sam all but jumped out of his skin. His knees hit the table when he jerked and he smacked his wrist off the edge of the table when he moved to shove Dean's hand away from his nether regions. That caught Bobby's attention, which only made Sam blush deeper. “Um...so, yeah, food, huh?” he stuttered, finally releasing the breath he was holding when Bobby turned his attention back to the book he was reading. 

Once they were outside and headed to the Impala, Sam punched Dean in the arm. “What's your problem?” he chastised lightly. “You really have no shame do you, Dean? Bobby was sitting less than three feet away from us when you put your hand on my junk.”

Unable to hide his smile, Dean merely shrugged. “Come on, Sammy,” he chuckled. “Bobby was on the other side of the table. And your _junk_ was under the table. And he wasn't even paying attention to us until you lost your cool.” Shrugging, Dean added, “Besides, it's not like Bobby doesn't know what we do when we're alone. And he doesn't care, Sam.”

As they reached the Impala, Sam rolled his eyes. “I know he does, Dean,” he reminded his brother. “But I still don't like to flaunt it in his face. Or anyone's face. Our sex life should be private. I mean, everyone's should. It's an intimate thing shared between two people who love each. No one else has to be involved with all of that.”

Although Dean tried to keep the jabs to Sam at a minimum these days, there was just no way he could pass this one up. Opening the driver's side door, Dean asked, “So, do you need me to stop at the drug store to pick up some feminine products before we get to the bar, Sammy?” 

Of course Dean didn't see it the way Sam did. The man couldn't keep his parts to himself if he tried. Well, until he and Sam got together. But that didn't stop him from flirting. Rolling his eyes once more and shooting Dean the best bitch face he could muster, Sam grumped, “Jerk.” With that, he folded himself into the car, allowing himself to smile slightly at his brother's insult.

“Bitch,” Dean shot back without venom, getting behind the wheel and heading toward one of his favorite bars in town. There, he let loose. All of the events of the last few months just seem to bleed out of him with each whiskey he knocked back. He drank, he ate, he flirted, and he forgot. He could see that Sam was getting pissy when the waitress allowed her hand to linger on Dean's arm before she finally walked away, her hips swaying seductively.

Now, if Dean wasn't with Sam, he would have been all over that. But after Jessica died, Sam had been fragile. And one night of heated passion – Dean giving Sam whatever the hell he needed to numb the pain – turned into almost a three year relationship with his little brother. And Dean would never cheat on his brother. He loved Sam.

Still, he could see that Sam was upset by the flirting. Of course, Sam would never admit to it, but Dean could see the way his brother's attitude changed. It would start light at first. Sam would shoot a few dirty looks to whoever was hitting on Dean, but he would keep his mouth shut. As the flirting progressed, Sam would get more and more moody. And Dean knew exactly when Sam was going to burst, so he liked to keep him on the edge for a while before he finally took Sam home. Jealous Sam made for some Earth shattering sex.

Tonight, Sam was almost there. At one point, Dean thought his brother was going to jump out of his seat and pounce on the waitress for touching Dean so much. Damn, that would have been a sight to see. “You ready to get back, Sammy?” Dean finally asked, purposely leaving the receipt with the waitress's phone number on the table as he stood. He didn't want her number. He had all he needed standing 6'4” tall across the table from him. 

As soon as Sam had the okay from Dean, he gladly stood, ready to get the hell out of here. That waitress had been all over Dean tonight – more so than usual when they went out. Sure, Sam got it – Dean was fucking hot. But he was also off the market! Not that Dean had made any effort to tell her that. Sometimes, Sam really hated going out.

When Dean reached the Impala, he scanned the area to make sure they were alone. He'd planned this well. He'd parked toward the back of the restaurant so he and Sam could have a little privacy after dinner. Of course, they could have just driven back to Bobby's place, but Dean had a feeling the older hunter was going to put them straight back to work, and he didn't think he could wait that long to be inside his brother. Besides, he'd just spent the better part of an hour getting Sam all jealous – he didn't want to waste that.

Before Sam even had a chance to completely close the car door, Dean was on him. His lips crushed against Sam's, swallowing up the surprised moan that escaped his little brother. “C'mere, Sammy,” Dean moaned between kisses, his hands shoving at the over shirt his brother was wearing. The kid wore too many clothes as far as Dean was concerned. It took too long to get him out of them.

“Mmmm...D'n,” Sam moaned, his hips bucking up against Dean's palm when his brother shoved his hand down the front of his boxers. “What're you doing?” he breathed when Dean finally stopped attacking his lips and instead moved on to Sam's neck. A particularly sweet spot for Sam – he knew Dean was aware of that. “We-We have to get back to Bobby's. We need to...research more.”

Research was the furthest thing from Dean's mind right now. “Been researching for weeks,” Dean mumbled against Sam's skin. “Better things to worry about right now.” Skilled fingers worked open the fastenings of Sam's jeans with ease. Dean tucked his thumbs into the waistband of both Sam's jeans and boxers then, tugging the fabric off Sam's hips, revealing the younger Winchester's gorgeous lower body. “God Sammy, I want you.”

There was a part of Sam that wanted to tell Dean no. His brother had just been flirting with the waitress, and in a way, it made Sam feel cheap. He knew that it was ridiculous, but a part of him couldn't help but wonder if Dean was only jumping him because part of the older Winchester wanted to be with that waitress right now. But Sam knew he was being stupid – if Dean wanted that waitress, he could have had her.

Instead, Dean was out here with him. Dean was here with his pants dropped down around his ankles waiting for Sam to suck his cock so they could get the show on the road – that waitress was probably not even a blip on Dean's radar right now. 

Satisfied that his brother only wanted him – and quite frankly kicking himself a little for even doubting that fact – Sam positioned himself so that he was laying on the bench seat in the Impala, his head in Dean's lap. His tongue darted out to lick his lips as his hand wrapped around the base of his brother's erect member. 

Dipping his head, Sam took just the tip of Dean's cock between his lips. His eyes ticked up to Dean's face, watching the older Winchester's reaction. One of his favorite parts was seeing what he did to Dean. There was just something so satisfying about knowing that whatever Sam did to him, Dean was going to enjoy it. Slowly, Sam opened his mouth wider, taking more of Dean's cock inside until Dean's cock bottomed out against the back of his throat. Sam swallowed, humming around his brother's length.

As Sam worked his cock, Dean sucked two fingers into his mouth. Once he had them good and wet, dripping with saliva, Dean turned his attention to Sam's pert little ass. One finger circled Sam's hole before he pushed it inside gently, going slow so he didn't hurt Sam. After a few moments, Dean added the second finger, scissoring the digits inside Sam to open him for his dick.

When Sam felt like he was going to explode from Dean's ministrations, he finally pulled off his brother's cock. “D'n...” he breathed, pushing himself into a seated position and tugging at his brother's jacket to let him know he wanted him in the middle of the bench seat. Once Dean was away from the steering wheel, Sam threw his leg over Dean's lap, straddling Dean's hips. “I need you.”

Sam turned at the waist and grabbed the base of Dean's cock, guiding his brother into his body. When Dean was fully sheathed inside him, Sam groaned in a mixture of pleasure and pain. His hands gripped Dean's shoulders, fingers biting through the thin fabric of Dean's T-shirt. His hair flopped in front of his face as he hung his head, Sam's breaths panting out of him. Slowly, he gave an experimental thrust to make sure he was ready, dragging another moan out of him as well as Dean.

“God Sammy,” Dean groaned as his head fell back against the seat. “Move baby, come on. Ride me.” Again, he groaned as Sam did as he was told. Dean's hands moved to grip Sam's hips, helping to guide the younger Winchester as he rocked up and down in front of him. Dean would never get over how damn hot his little brother had grown up to be. 

The windows steamed with their panted breaths as Sam continued to ride Dean. His lips crushed against the older man's, teeth nipping at Dean's sinful plush bottom lip. “D'n,” he stuttered out, feeling heat pooling in his lower belly. “God...m'close. Cum with me, Dean...please?” Dean could call him a chick for it later – Sam liked it when they both reached their climax together. There was just something so much more intimate and _powerful_ about it.

Right now, the last thing Dean was thinking about was making fun of Sam's chick-like tendencies. Instead, one hand moved to grip Sam's shaggy hair, pulling his brother down to crush their lips together once more. “Do it, Sammy,” he breathed. “Cum for me.” 

Almost as if Sam was waiting for permission, his orgasm hit him like a ton of bricks on Dean's command. Back arching, Sam's ball drew up tight against his body as hot ropes of spunk shot from his cock. Dean's fingers wrapped around Sam's member, stroking his brother through his orgasm, milking every last drop of cum from his dick.

As Sam came, his inner muscles clenched tightly around Dean's sensitive flesh, pulling Dean right over the edge with Sam. Dean grunted softly when Sam collapsed against him, the younger Winchester's head resting on Dean's shoulder. Dean barely resisted the urge to run his fingers through Sam's hair – it was getting so long now. And Dean could tell when he looked at Sam that it was bouncy. But he wouldn't dare give Sam that ammunition to make fun of him for being too affectionate. Dean reserved those moments for when Sam really needed them.

After a few minutes, Sam started to get heavy. “C'mon, Sammy,” Dean chuckled, gently slapping Sam's arm. “You can't fall asleep on me like this. We still have to drive back to Bobby's place.” Dean was dreading that. He knew there was only research waiting for him there. “Plus, Bobby's food is probably getting cold in the back seat.”

**~~**

Just as Dean had dreaded, more research was waiting for them when they got back to Bobby's place. And the older hunter was moody because he had cold french fries. Research and a moody Bobby Singer – those were two of Dean's least favorite things. He would have given anything to be back in the Impala with Sam riding him right about now. Maybe it was time to get back on the road. This research wasn't doing anything but pissing everyone off. And hunting could do that.

Three more hours, and Dean was ready to pull his hair out. “I need a break,” he explained to Sam and Bobby when they turned their attentions to him as he stood. “We've been at this for days. My eyes are starting to cross. I just...I need to take a minute. Or...a year.”

Dean made his way to the kitchen and grabbed another beer before Sam followed after him. He was giving Dean that kicked puppy look and Dean just couldn't take it. “I'm sorry, Sammy,” Dean apologized. “I don't see the point of this. We've never heard of anyone getting out of their demon deal. I mean, other than that guy we saved, but that was only because we trapped the crossroads demon and _made_ her let him go. You _killed_ the demon when you saw it. And it didn't get me out of the deal. They're not gonna break this, Sam.”

It hurt to hear Dean have so little faith. But Sam had to admit, he was running low on hope as well. With each passing day, he was losing his cool little by little. “Dean, I know this is frustrating,” Sam started. “But we can figure this out. Jo and Ellen are coming in tomorrow to help. And Missouri said she's been looking for anything to help us too. We'll find _something_ Dean. We have to.”

And if they couldn't find anything, Sam was more than willing to sell himself to save his brother. He'd been throwing the idea around in his head for a while now. And he was ready. If by the end of the week, no one found anything, Sam was going to resort to his own plan. Dean wasn't going to Hell for him.

“Yeah, Sammy, I know,” Dean nodded, taking a pull from his beer. He didn't like being so negative about this because he knew Sam wanted this. His brother wanted them to find a way out more than anything. But Dean knew going in that there was nothing he could do about this. There was no hail mary at the end of this thing – he was going to Hell. And he'd make the same deal over and over again if he were in that position to save his brother. “I guess I'm just tired. This research really gives me a headache.”

Admittedly, Sam was pretty tired himself. “I know what you mean,” he assured Dean. “I'm tired too.” Closing the gap between himself and Dean, Sam wrapped his arms around Dean's waist, pulling his brother impossibly closer. “Maybe we should just call it a night. By lunchtime tomorrow everyone should be here, and we'll have three fresh sets of eyes on this.”

Bed sounded like Heaven as far as Dean was concerned. Plus, he had some more fun things he wanted to try out on his brother. Reaching into his back pocket, Dean pulled out the cuffs he'd stuffed in there earlier. “Can we use these?” he asked, smiling seductively at Sam. “And...the whipped cream in Bobby's fridge? We can replace it tomorrow.”

Heat shot to Sam's cock when Dean pulled out the cuffs. He knew it was part of the bucket list, and honestly, it didn't really bother him right now. They hadn't done much with bondage, and Sam was excited to try it out. “Uh, yeah we can use those,” he promised, clearing his throat as he pulled away from his brother. “And I guess we can use the whipped cream too. Just hide it from Bobby on the way up the stairs.”

The kid in a candy store grin on Dean's face was hard to miss as Sam walked toward the stairs that lead to their bedroom.

**~~**

Sunlight shined through the curtains, pulling Sam from his sleep. He groaned softly as he woke, a small smile coming to his lips when Dean's arm tightened around his waist. At some point before Bobby's guests arrived, Sam was going to need to take a shower. He was still sticky from last night's escapades, and there was no way he was putting clothes on over that mess. Dean was good with his tongue, but he wasn't _that_ good. 

His body ached a bit when he wiggled his way out of Dean's hold, practically falling out of the bed. Dean always slept really close to him – not that Sam was complaining, but that made it difficult to get out of bed without waking Dean up. And Sam knew that if Dean was awake, he'd want to shower with him, and then they wouldn't get anything done today.

They could save that for another day. _After_ Dean was out of his deal.

Once he had the bathroom door closed, Sam started the shower. While he was waiting for the water to get hot, Ruby appeared in the bathroom with him, causing the younger Winchester to practically jump out of his skin. “Ruby!” he hissed, cheeks burning pink as he covered his nakedness as best as he could. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, we never exchanged numbers, so it wasn't like I could call,” Ruby replied sarcastically, not bothering to hide the fact that she was checking Sam out. However, when she saw the sour puss expression on Sam's face, she knew he wasn't in the mood to play games. “I know what you're planning on doing, Sam. I'm here to talk you out of it.”

Playing dumb, Sam shook his head. “I don't know what you're talking about,” he lied. “I'm not planning on doing anything. Except getting Dean out of his deal. Something you're supposed to be working on. But I haven't seen any results from you, so I guess I'll just have to figure it out myself.”

Anger flashed across Ruby's features at Sam's words. “I'm _working on it_ , Sam,” she assured him. “But I can't do my part if I have to come down here and babysit you.” Pushing away from the wall she was leaning against, Ruby took a step closer to Sam. “I know you're planning on selling your soul for your brother's. I can tell you right now that is not a good idea. And it won't solve anything.”

Damn demons. They could lie, but when someone else tried to do it, they always had to mess with them. “And why isn't it going to solve anything?” Sam asked. “Not that it's any business of yours what I plan on doing, but if I'm dead, then Dean's deal goes away. So, they can have me. And it'll save Dean.”

A small frown came to Ruby's lips, her brow furrowing. “Or they'll kill you and still drag your brother to Hell. Win-win for the demons,” Ruby offered. “I'm telling you to stand down, Sam. Let me handle this. For once...just listen to me.”

With that, Ruby was gone. As if she thought her little threat, or plea, Sam wasn't actually sure what it was, worked. He didn't answer to Ruby. And quite honestly, he was starting to wonder if she was lying to him about being able to save Dean. So far, she'd produced jack squat in the form of answers, or ideas, or solutions. Sam had a solution. It wasn't ideal, but it would work.

The hot spray was a welcome distraction from the terrible things that were going on in his life right now. Sam was so tense and stressed out that he was surprised he was even keeping it together anymore. Every day they failed, it was one day closer to him losing Dean. And he wasn't even sure why he was waiting until the end of the week. It was getting more and more obvious that they weren't going to find anything. Everyone had been searching for months, and nothing had come up.

Just because Ellen and Jo were coming here now didn't mean that they were going to magically find a solution when they hadn't before. Hell, Dean still hadn't even told them what was happening. He didn't want anyone else involved. Right now, they just thought they were researching for a case that Sam and Dean had been working.

Sam hated lying to them, but he wasn't about to go against his brother's wishes. It was bad enough Sam had been the reason Bobby found out about it. He didn't want to have the blame fall on him for anyone else being brought up to speed. And Missouri, well, she just _knew_ somehow. She was good at that kind of stuff. It was kind of her thing.

**~~**

By the time lunch rolled around, Sam was already pretty heavy into his research. There was one last ditch effort he was checking up on and then he was done. No one had anything still, and he wasn't going to wait. If this lead didn't pan out, Sam was going to see the demon tonight. He'd offer himself up, ask for one more night to say goodbye, and then accept his fate.

His lead ended up at another dead end. And Sam was done. He was quiet for the rest of the day, just watching Dean. He wanted to remember every little thing about his brother. It was the only thing that was going to keep him warm in Hell, he was sure. 

When Dean finally fell asleep, on the couch with a book draped over his chest, Sam swiped the keys to the Impala and headed out to find himself a crossroads. He was going to save his brother if it was the last thing he did.


	3. Chapter Three

The wind bit into Sam's skin through his jacket as he covered the small box full of ingredients to summon a crossroads demon where the intersection met. Dean would kill him if he knew he was here. But Sam didn't have a choice. No one was getting anywhere with the research. Ruby hadn't held up her end of the bargain either, so Sam was starting to wonder if she was lying about being able to save Dean. Sam was out of options. If this demon didn't show, he had no idea what he was going to do.

Glancing behind him to see if the demon was going to sneak up on him, Sam held his breath. The last time he summoned a crossroads demon, he'd killed it. Hopefully that didn't scare all of them away.

“Sam Winchester,” came a cooed voice behind him, causing Sam to snap his head in the direction of the demon. “Well, well, it must be my lucky day.” Slowly, the demon took a few steps closer to Sam, bright blue eyes searching for any signs of trouble. The Winchester's were known for their Devil's Traps, and their pesky tendencies to lure demons to their deaths. “To what do I owe this...spectacular pleasure?”

Every time a crossroads demon showed up, it was always riding a new innocent victim. Sometimes, Sam wondered if the demons just jumped from body to body, or if he was dealing with a new demon in each time. This time, it was a man – he was handsome, with his steel blue eyes and his shaggy black hair. It wasn't as long as Sam's, but it definitely had some volume. And he was built – there was no doubt this man spent some time at the gym. He may have even been more muscular than Sam, which was a feat these days.

 _Wait a minute_. Sam knew this man. He'd been at a bar he and Dean stopped at one night after a pretty rough hunt. Dean had needed something to take the edge off. Sam had even caved that night and had a beer with his brother. This man had been there – he'd hit on Sam. It had pissed Dean off, but Sam hadn't taken it to heart. Matt – his name was Matt.

As the demon walked closer, Sam kept his eyes locked on the man, his instincts sharp. “You know why I'm here,” he countered, glaring at the demon when it started to circle him. “A few months back, my brother made a deal with one of you. I want him released from that deal. I'll make it worth your while.”

A wide grin came to the demon's lips at Sam's promise. “Will you now, Sam?” he asked, eyes dancing with mischief. “And what did you have in mind?”

Squaring his shoulders, Sam faced the demon head on, standing at his full height. He still had a few inches on Matt, so he felt a little more intimidating right now. “You let Dean go. And you can have me. I was supposed to die that night, anyway. Just...give me one more day to say goodbye and then you can take me. My soul for Dean's.”

Now, the demon's interest was piqued. It was no surprise that Sam was willing to die for Dean. Those damn Winchesters were always trying to sell their souls for family members. It was how they had John Winchester sizzling on the rack with Alastair right now. But he didn't see a need to kill Sam. No – he actually liked the younger Winchester. He was strong, and defiant, and just...delicious. Maybe he could use this to his advantage.

Slowly, he circled Sam one last time, stopping at his original position, almost pouting. “A life for a life, huh?” he asked, eying Sam suspiciously. “Why does it always have to be about killing? I'm a reasonable man, Sam. And there's more about you that I could use other than your soul. I mean, sure, we're usually in the market for souls – I know this. But I've got hundreds of souls, Sam. Thousands, even. And there's plenty more where they came from. But you, Sam? There's only one of you.”

Sam didn't understand where the demon was going with this. Honestly, when he'd summoned him, Sam thought this was going to be pretty straight forward. They'd exchange the terms of the deal, they'd seal it with a kiss, and it would be done. But now, it seemed like the demon was trying to _bargain_ with him. Well, Sam would bite. “What are you suggesting?” he asked, fear coiling like a snake in his belly.

“I like you, Sam,” the demon smiled, straight white teeth bared. “I've been watching you and Dean. I even flirted with you a couple times at a bar.” His smile widened at Sam's reaction. “So, you do remember me?” Shoving his hands in the pockets of his dress slacks, the demon continued, “Give yourself over to me for a week, Sam. That's my offer.”

Confusion was clear on Sam's face, brows knit as he tried to process what was being asked of him. “What?” he asked. That was too vague for Sam. He was bargaining with a demon – he had to be thorough. He wasn't agreeing to anything until he knew the fulls terms of the deal.

The demon's head tilted to the side as his eyes raked over Sam. “One week,” he repeated. “You do what I say, when I say. I can do whatever I want with you. With the exception of killing you, of course. If you agree to the terms, Dean's soul is safe, and in seven days, you can go back to your precious big brother. If you want to.”

Allowing a demon to do anything he wanted to him was a scary concept. But if he was being honest with himself, Sam kind of saw this as a better opportunity. If he didn't die, then he and Dean could go back to normal when this was all over – well, eventually they could. As long as Sam wasn't too badly injured during this ordeal. “You can't kill me?” he asked, mimicking the demon's nod. “And you can't maim me either. The only way I'll agree to this deal is if I can go back to hunting when it's over.”

Permanently damaging Sam's body was not on the demon's agenda. His mind? Now, that was a different story. But hunters continued doing their work with broken psyches all of the time – hell, half of them came into the job pretty fucked up already. “Fine,” he answered with a shrug. “You can't tell anyone that you made this sweet little deal. If someone catches wind of it, the deal is off and your brother gets dragged down to the Pit as planned.”

The last thing Sam was going to do was admit that he was stupid enough to make a deal with a demon. “I won't tell anyone,” he assured the demon. “But I need to go back to Dean before this starts. I need to grab a few things that I'll need for the week.”

Again, the demon agreed to Sam's request. “Meet me here tomorrow night,” the demon instructed. “We'll say 11:11...on the dot. Don't be late, Sam. I'm not a patient man.”

Sam gave the demon a curt nod. “I won't be late,” he promised. “So, we have a deal, then?” The only answer Sam received was the demon's hand fisted in his shirt, pulling Sam into a deep kiss. Sam groaned in displeasure, pushing the demon off of him when he tried to add tongue. Sam wasn't under his thumb just yet. That started tomorrow.

When the kiss broke, the demon was smiling again. “Oh, I'm going to enjoy taming you,” he chuckled. “I'll see you tomorrow, Sam.” With that, the demon disappeared, leaving the younger Winchester alone once more.

**~~**

Sam felt sick when he walked through Bobby's door. He'd essentially just dealt away his free will for a week, and he was already regretting it. However, the alternative was Dean going to Hell, so Sam could handle this. It was only a week. Seven days – that was nothing. Some of John Winchester's intense training sessions had lasted longer than that, and Sam had always survived those.

“Where have you been, Sammy?” Dean asked when Sam walked through the door. “I've been calling you. I was getting ready to come find your ass.”

Honestly, Sam had been hoping Dean would have stayed asleep while he was gone. But Dean never had been one to sleep through the night on a couch. “I'm sorry,” Sam answered, shaking his head. “I went out to get some food, and I must have lost track of time. My phone's dead, so I didn't know you were calling. You were sleeping, so I didn't want to wake you up.”

There was something off about that story. Dean didn't believe Sam for one second. But he wasn't about to dwell on it. Sam had been going out late at night a lot these days. Dean figured the kid was just trying to blow off steam. Not that Dean could blame him. So, he didn't bring it up. Instead, he opened his arms, motioning for Sam to come to him. “C'mere,” he mumbled, arms wrapping around Sam once his brother did as he was told. 

As soon as Dean's arms were around him, Sam instantly felt better. He felt safe. As long as Dean was around, nothing could hurt him. He pressed his face into the crook of Dean's neck, breathing deeply. Dean was safe. Because of Sam's deal, his brother didn't have to worry about getting dragged off to Hell in a few months. Sam wanted to shout it from the rooftops he was so happy – but he knew he couldn't.

Instead, Sam slowly pulled back, eyes searching Dean's. “Are you coming to bed with me?” he asked, biting into his bottom lip as a blush stole over his features. There were a lot of people in the house tonight, but Sam didn't want to think about that. This was the last night he was going to be spending with Dean for a whole week – he wanted to make it memorable.

It was impossible to miss the blush that came across Sam's cheeks at his question. That could only mean one thing as far as Dean was concerned – his baby brother was horny. “There's no way you're keeping me out of that bed,” he assured Sam as he grabbed the younger man's hand, leading them to their bedroom. 

Once inside, Dean closed the door behind Sam, almost immediately pouncing on the younger Winchester. “Mmm...D'n,” Sam moaned, his hands moving to grip at Dean's over shirt before he shoved at it, getting the offending fabric off Dean's body. He didn't waste any time as his hands reached for the hem of Dean's shirt, pulling it up and over Dean's head, tossing it onto the growing pile of clothes.

As soon as Sam had Dean's shirt off, the older Winchester went to work on ridding Sam of his clothes. Dean practically ripped the fabric in his attempt to reach bare skin. Once Sam was naked from the waist up, Dean turned them so that Sam's back was facing the bed before he gave his brother a hard shove. Dean quickly blanketed Sam's body with his own when Sam fell onto the mattress with a grunt. His lips crushed against Sam's, tongue pushing its way inside Sam's mouth as Dean rubbed their denim clad cocks together.

“D'n,” Sam groaned, eyes squeezed tightly shut as Dean's teeth sank into the sensitive flesh of his shoulder. “Oh God, babe, don't...don't stop, D'n, please?” He wedged his hands between their bodies, shaky fingers working the fastenings of Dean's jeans. As soon as he had the button popped and the fly down, Sam's hand was inside Dean's boxers, long fingers wrapping around his brother's hot, erect length.

A low growl escaped Dean when Sam's hand wrapped around his cock. “Damn, baby,” he breathed, hips bucking on their own accord. “So needy for me, aren't you Sammy?” Dean _loved_ it. Sam didn't get this way often, so Dean had to take advantage of it when it happened. 

Without answering, Sam bucked his hips, throwing Dean off balance briefly so he could roll them so that he was on top of his brother. Smiling down at Dean, Sam answered, “You have no idea, Dean.” Dipping his head, Sam kissed Dean once more, teeth clashing together in his attempt to devour every inch of his brother. 

Sam's fingers tucked into the waistband of Dean's jeans and boxers, pulling both off in one go. Once Dean was fully exposed to him, Sam took a minute to enjoy the view. Dean really was perfect. Shockingly, all of the burgers, and pizza, and pie that Dean consumed did nothing to stop him from having washboard abs and a perfectly chiseled chest. He was beautiful – sinfully so. 

When Sam noticed that Dean was squirming under him, trying to get friction, he quickly snapped out of his daze. His hand wrapped around Dean's length once more, Sam slowly leaning in and licking a stripe from the root to the tip, pulling another moan from Dean. “Shh...” Sam whispered. “Dean, we don't want to wake anyone up.” 

Apparently, the threat of being caught was enough to keep Dean quiet. This time, when Sam bent down to taste Dean, the older Winchester kept his mouth shut, jaw ticking as he tried to keep quiet. Without warning, Sam took Dean's cock between his lips, not stopping until Dean's tip hit the back of his throat. Sam's hands quickly shot to Dean's hips, holding his brother down so he didn't choke him. Sam wanted to make this as good as he possibly could for Dean. After all, he wasn't going to be able to have this for a little while when the demon came to collect on his deal.

Sam moaned softly around his brother's length, letting Dean feel the vibration of the action against his skin. He swallowed then, allowing his throat to work against Dean's sensitive skin before he pulled back just a little, quickly taking Dean's entire length back into his mouth.

Breathing through his nose, Sam bobbed his head, switching between fast and slower paces. He liked to keep Dean guessing. It made the sex so much more fun when it was spontaneous. And he wanted Dean to remember this. When Dean's hand fisted in his hair, Sam slapped it away – he was in charge tonight. Dean wasn't leading this ship right now.

It was getting harder to think straight – and to stay quiet – as Sam all but sucked his brain out through his dick. He kind of liked the way Sam was taking control right now. Sam always let Dean take point in the bedroom. It was kind of a turn on when Sam knew what he wanted and he went for it. But Dean knew that he wouldn't be able to let Sam continue this much longer. He was going to lose it before the fun even started if Sam didn't stop soon.

His breaking point was when Sam pulled almost completely off his dick, the younger man's tongue sliding along the head of Dean's cock, dipping into the slit. Dean saw white as pleasure coursed through every nerve ending. “Sammy, stop,” he pleaded, grabbing at any part of his brother that he could reach. “Stop, you're gonna make me explode before we get to the finale.”

Although Sam didn't want to stop, he did as he was told. He then allowed Dean to flip them so that he was on his back once more. Dean's short, blunt nails raked along Sam's skin in his haste to remove Sam's jeans and boxers. As Dean stood at the foot of the bed, he took in Sam's appearance, breaths panting out of him in his arousal.

His cock twitched with excitement as his eyes met Sam’s, the younger man's pupils blown so wide with his lust that his eyes looked nearly black. Wrapping his arms around his little brother’s thighs, he pulled Sam slightly closer to him before he dropped to his knees and dipped his head, kissing Sam's shaft once, then each of his balls before moving lower still, tongue pressing against Sam's tightly puckered hole. 

As Sam felt Dean's lips pressing against his shaft, then balls, he moaned, head tilting back further, pressing his head into the worn sheets covering their mattress. However, when Dean's tongue pressed against his hole, Sam jumped slightly, not expecting it at all. "Ohmygod,” he breathed, biting into his bottom lip to keep himself from crying out.

"Shh...” Dean whispered, tightening his grip on Sam so that he couldn't wiggle away. "Just relax, baby. Gonna make you feel good." Slowly, he ran his tongue over Sam's hole again, this time thrusting against it slightly before pressing inside. 

Sam whimpered softly his hips pressing back against Dean's tongue on their own accord, wanting to feel more of Dean inside him. 

Panting softly, Dean pulled back, looking up at his brother's face. "Put your feet on my shoulders,” Dean ordered, slowly lowering Sam's legs so his feet were pressed against his shoulders before he dipped his head again, lapping at Sam's asshole once more. 

"Ungh..." Sam moaned, head rolling on the bed as his breaths came out in short, shallow pants. It felt so good. His hand darted between his legs, curling in the soft strands of his brother's hair as his free hand balled into a fist on the sheets beneath him. 

Dean pointed his tongue, thrusting deep back into Sam, lapping at him from the inside before he curled his tongue, smirking against Sam's hole as he heard his little brother moaning and mewling beneath him. Finally, he pulled his tongue from inside Sam, running it over the younger man's hole once more, index finger coming up to press into Sam, Dean using his spit to help ease the digit inside. 

Sam hissed in a breath, teeth clenched together as his eyes squeezed tightly closed, Sam focusing solely on keeping his body relaxed for his brother's ministrations. 

"You okay?" Dean asked, looking up at Sam's face to see if he needed him to stop. 

"M'fine," Sam assured him, nodding. "K-Keep going."

Dean returned Sam's nod, getting back to work on opening his brother up, finger sliding in past the third knuckle before Dean pulled it out, then thrust it back in, pressing deeper with each push, crooking his finger to search for Sam's prostate. He knew he found it when his brother arched his body off the bed, moaning loud and deep. 

Smiling, Dean added a second finger, tongue sliding in alongside his fingers to ease the way. With his other hand, Dean squeezed Sam's ass cheek in a silent warning to keep his voice down. His fingers started seeking out and caressing the small bundle of nerves inside his little brother's body once more, watching as Sam arched and writhed beneath him. Everything about Sam turned Dean on. It was a little disturbing – the things Dean was willing to do for Sam.

Dean continued his ministrations until he had two, then three fingers inside his little brother, stretching the younger man open so he'd be ready for Dean's cock. Pulling back, he looked into Sam’s eyes again, smiling down at the younger man as he leaned in to press his lips against Sam's. 

When Dean pulled back, Sam whimpered, missing the contact he’d just had with his brother already. “Dean, c’mon,” he whispered, bucking his hips up slightly to rub his engorged dick against Dean’s belly, needing the friction.

Nodding, Dean licked his own lips, leaning in to kiss his brother once again, keeping it short as he moved to lie down on top of Sam. Pulling back slightly, Dean spit into his palm. Sam's spit was still slick against his skin, but a little extra lube never hurt. Dean figured between this, Sam's killer blow job, and the rim job he'd just given Sam, it would be good enough. 

Quickly, Dean grabbed Sam's ankle, pulling his leg up and tossing it over his shoulder before he gripped the base of his own cock, lining himself up with Sam's stretched hole. "You ready, Sammy?” he asked, waiting for the nod before he slowly thrust his cock inside Sam. He went slowly so he didn't hurt Sam, breathing deeply as he pushed in inch by agonizing inch. Once he was fully in, buried balls deep inside his brother, he stilled his movements. His lips crushed down against Sam's once more, kissing Sam hard. "Tell me when you want me to move."

Sam's eyes were squeezed tightly shut, lower lip caught between his teeth as Dean pushed his hard cock into his ass. It felt like he was being split in two, even with the preparation Dean had given him, but he could handle it. They usually had lube when they were together, but sometimes it just wasn't possible – apparently tonight was one of those times. Not that Sam minded. When Dean was finally all the way in, Sam released his lip, panting slightly, waiting a couple minutes before he shifted his hips experimentally. "Y-Yeah, Dean...now. You-You can move now."

Dean didn't need to be told twice, slowly pulling his cock almost all the way out before slowly pushing back in, breaths panting out against Sam's neck and shoulder. Gradually, he picked up the pace until he had set a nice, steady rhythm for them.

Sam arched his back, low moans and groans breaking from his throat as he thrust his hips, pushing back against his brother’s cock buried deep in his ass. His leg slid down off Dean's shoulders, Sam wasting no time before he wrapped both legs around Dean's waist, pulling him in closer with his thighs. 

Dean groaned, his weight braced on his hands as he leaned over Sam, Sam's legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he slammed hard into his brother over and over again. “Shhh...Sammy, you're gonna...wake someone up,” Dean tried to quiet his brother, aware that he wasn't exactly being silent himself.

"Oh God, baby, you're so tight," Dean panted, voice soft as he dipped his head, his mouth trailing hot kisses along Sam's throat. Sam's only answer was to moan loudly as Dean's fingers curled around his achingly hard cock, pumping Sam's shaft. 

"D-Dean," Sam gasped, bucking his hips, driving his cock deeper into Dean's fist, his ass back against his brother's dick. Sam's fingers dug into Dean's back and shoulder where he was holding onto him, leaving half moon shapes in their wake. "M'close," he warned, having known from the start that he wasn't going to last long after he had Dean inside him.

"Me too," Dean answered, tugging relentlessly on Sam's cock, driving him toward his orgasm as he felt heat spiraling through his own body. "Oh God, Sammy, cum with me, baby. Sammy, cum with me!" Dean ordered in a low growl, his back bowing toward Sam as he came hot and heavy into his brother's body. 

Sam inner muscles clenched, squeezing Dean's cock as he felt his balls drawing up close to his body just before the first ribbon of cum shot from his dick, coating his brother's hand. Dean's lips covered Sam's as he came, swallowing the cry that wanted to rip from his throat. They both gazed into each other's eyes, champagne hazel locked with jade green as they rode out the waves of their pleasure. Dean collapsed hard onto Sam once his orgasm had passed, panting against his brother's throat as his hand slid from Sam's mouth. 

They laid like that for a while, just catching their breath before Dean finally rolled off Sam. He couldn't help but roll his eyes when Sam complained that he was heavy. “You like it when I'm on top of you,” he assured Sam, crushing their lips together once more when Sam tried to speak.

One look outside, and they could see that the sun was already up. Everyone was going to be waking soon, and it would be back to the countless hours of research. Dean _hated_ research. “I need a shower,” he mumbled, glaring at Sam's cum on his hands. “You comin'?”

Of course, Sam wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to shower with Dean. He got out first since Dean liked to stand under the hot water and relax a little after he was done. As Sam was towel drying his hair, Dean's amulet caught his eye. He'd given it to Dean for Christmas the year he found out that John was a hunter. Dean hadn't gone a day without it since. Without giving it too much thought, Sam snatched it off the dresser, tucking it safely into the pocket of his jeans.

Once Dean was downstairs, they finally got breakfast. “Hey Sammy,” Dean asked, grabbing Sam's arm before they headed into the kitchen. “Have you seen my amulet? I took it off this morning while we were in the shower, and now I can't find it.”

Feigning innocence, Sam shrugged. “No, I haven't seen it,” he lied, unwilling to give it back just yet. He needed something to remind him of Dean while he was gone. And this amulet meant a lot to both of them. It was perfect. “Are you sure you had it this morning?”

“Yeah, I had it,” he pouted. His hand moved to rub against his chest, right over his heart where the amulet usually rested. “God, I feel naked.”

A small chuckle escaped Sam as he headed into the kitchen with the rest of the crew. “I wish you were naked,” he teased. His eyes widened marginally when Dean slapped his ass, Sam's cheeks burning a bright shade of red as Dean passed by him to take his seat at the table.


	4. Chapter Four

“You sure you don't wanna come with me, Sammy?” Dean asked for the third time since Sam turned down his offer. “It'll be fun. Hustling a little pool, throwing back a few cold ones. Just like the old days.” And of course, Dean planned on doing a little flirting with the waitresses, too. But he didn't need to tell Sam that.

A small smile came to Sam's lips when Dean invited him out again. More than anything, Sam wanted to go to that dive bar with Dean. He wanted to toss back some drinks, and hustle some cocky, drunken douchebags out of their daddy's money. Hell, he'd even sit there while Dean flirted with other people if it meant he could be with Dean. But he couldn't. He had other plans tonight.

The day had gone by so fast. Sam just felt like he'd have more time to be with Dean before he had to go. Sure, it was only for a week, but they hadn't been separated for more than a few days since Jessica's death. Sam was dreading it.

It took everything in him to keep his voice from cracking as he spoke. “Yeah, Dean, I'm sure,” he answered for the third time this evening. “I'm gonna hit the library, I think. It's quieter there. I can concentrate a little better. And they might have something there that Bobby doesn't have here.” Sam's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. “Go ahead, Dean. Have fun. Don't worry about me. I'll see you when I get back.”

There was no way Dean could have understood the hidden meaning behind Sam's words. He didn't want Dean to worry about him this week. Sam was going to be fine. This demon couldn't kill him. And he couldn't maim him. Sam would only be gone for a week. Seven days, and then he'd be returned to Dean. 

He could see the disappointment clear as day on Dean's face. And Sam hated that he'd put it there. “Hey, c'mere,” he mumbled, bottom lip protruded in a pout when Dean tried to leave without kissing him goodbye. No one else was in their bedroom. They were safe to do whatever they pleased behind this door, so there was no reason for Dean not to give him a kiss. 

As soon as Dean was close enough, Sam pressed his lips to his brother's. He moaned softly against Dean's mouth, parting his lips to invite Dean's seeking tongue inside his mouth to tangle with his own tongue. “Mmm...” Sam smiled when the kiss broke. “I love you, Dean.”

Brows knit in confusion, Dean stared at Sam for a minute. “I know,” he answered, eyes searching his brother's face. Something seemed off about Sam. Dean had noticed it this morning when he asked about his amulet – which he still hadn't found. Figuring it was just the same old shit, different day, Dean shrugged it off. Before he left the room, Dean gripped the door frame. “Sammy,” he started, smirking at his brother when his attention snapped from the bed to Dean. “I love you, too.”

A wide smile broke out on Sam's face at Dean's declaration of love, dimples denting his cheeks. He felt like someone had reached into his chest and was squeezing his heart as he watched Dean leave. The smile on his face a few moments ago had already disappeared. _It was only a week. Just seven days._ He had to keep reminding himself of that. It was the only thing that was going to get him through this.

Grabbing his jacket, Sam quickly pulled it on. He double checked his pocket to make sure Dean's amulet was still safely tucked inside. Satisfied that he was as ready as he could possibly be, Sam headed down the stairs. He grabbed his cell phone off of the table and swiped a set of keys to one of the cars in the salvage yard he knew was working before he walked out of the house. 

As the engine roared to life, Sam felt a heavy weight in the pit of his stomach. He had no idea what the demon had planned for him, but he could imagine a few things. Torture was high up on the list – physical, mental, and emotional. Sam had to be prepared for whatever this demon wanted to throw his way. He was determined to make it out of this. He wasn't going to let this demon crack him. 

When he arrived at the crossroads, Matt was there waiting for him. He was wearing the same suit as he had been wearing the night before. And the same smug smirk. Sam wanted to slap it off of his face. “Sam, you made it,” the demon greeted, making a show of checking his watch. “And just on time. Always the punctual little Winchester, weren't you?”

“Alright,” Sam sneered, trying to act more confident than he actually felt right now. “You have me here. I came just like we agreed on. But I'm not going anywhere until you show me proof that Dean is out of his deal.”

The demon made a gesture of placing his hand over his heart, facial features crushed. “Why Sammy, it's almost like you don't trust me,” he accused. When Sam made no move to laugh at his joke – apparently Sam didn't see the humor in this – the demon straightened up once more. “Fine. I'm a man of my word.” 

Out of nowhere, a contract appeared beside the demon's head, floating in mid air. Plain as day, Dean's name was printed at the top. Sam was too far away to read any of the other words on the contract, but it was clearly what he'd been looking for. With a snap of his fingers, the parchment paper burst into flames, the ashes falling to the ground beside the demon's expensive dress shoes. “Now, come along, Sam,” he ordered. “We don't have a second to waste.”

Although every fiber of his being was telling him to bolt, Sam stood his ground. His mouth was dry and his limbs were heavy as he took a step toward the demon. Blood was rushing through his head, pounding in his ears, giving him a headache. It was like his body was fighting this with everything it had. 

Once Sam was close enough, the demon gripped his arm, teleporting them away from the crossroads. Sam's breaths were panting out of him as he tried to stop his head from spinning. He hated it when demons did that! He felt like he was going to vomit, but he managed to swallow it back. Sam had bigger things to worry about right now. 

His eyes darted around the room, trying to take everything in. He had no idea where he was. On the one side of the room, there was a staircase. Nothing fancy – just some stones made into what looked like a little deck with a few stairs leading to the floor. There was a cheap-looking railing on the stones as well, which added to the effect. 

The room was poorly lit with torches hanging on the walls – like something out of the middle ages. Thunder cracked around them, lighting the room for a few seconds with each burst. It was strange because from what Sam could tell, they were indoors. And there were no windows anywhere in the room. What caught Sam's attention, however, was the large cage in the middle of the room. There was fire all around it, flames licking up the sides and tangling around the bars. On the base of the cage, there were sigils that Sam had never seen before. If the situation had been different, Sam would have been fascinated. Now, he was just a little scared.

Turning his attention back to the demon, Sam asked, “Where are we?” Thunder cracked loudly behind him, the flames shooting higher, causing Sam to stumble backward. His arm shot up to cover his face as scared champagne hazel eyes searched the cage once more. 

Bright, glowing red eyes were the only things visible inside the cage for a few moments. It was like those eyes were piercing through him. The thunder cracked again, illuminating the figure of a man that those eyes belonged to. “Samuel Winchester,” the man cooed. “It's an honor, really. I've never had the pleasure.”

“Who are you?” Sam asked, eyes never leaving the new arrival. The man in the cage moved slowly, his index finger dragging from one bar to the next as he walked toward the front of the cage. Sam had never seen this man before. He didn't like being at a disadvantage.

A deep frown pulled at the man's lips. He made a gesture as if to apologize. “Oh, how rude of me,” he exclaimed. “I've been locked away in here for so long, I must have forgotten my manners.” The frown slowly flipped into a malicious smile. “My name is Lucifer.”

All of the air left Sam's lungs when the man introduced himself. “No,” he breathed, brows knit in a mixture of horror and confusion. If this was Lucifer, then that meant Sam was in Hell. And there was no way he was going to spend seven days in Hell and get out unscathed. Especially if Lucifer was in the mix. 

Angrily, Sam turned on the demon. “What are we doing here?!” he demanded. “Our deal did _not_ include you bringing me down to Hell and introducing me to _Lucifer_!” If that's even who this was. Sam wasn't entirely sure he believed this guy's story yet. 

Laughter from behind him dragged Sam's attention away from the crossroads demon. “Oh, did he not tell you what his plans were for you, Sam?” Lucifer asked. Making a _tsk_ -ing sound, Lucifer leaned against the edge of the bars. “Well...I guess Mephistopheles was never really good at telling the _whole_ truth. Must be in his nature.” Turning his attention fully on Sam, Lucifer continued, “Let me enlighten you, Sam. You see, when the sun is up, he has you all to himself. But when the sun goes down, and he's had his fill of you for the day, _I_ get to have you.”

Lucifer glanced around the cage he was in, eyes sparkling with mischief. “And it's been a long time since I've been allowed to have visitor's Sam. Really, this cage is supposed to be suspended in mid air where no one can touch me. But Mephistopheles is quite resourceful. I gave my demons the idea to get you down here, and well, I won myself a new little toy to play with.”

The last thing Sam remembered before his world went black was searing pain shooting through his entire body. It started at the bottoms of his feet, seeping through the soles of his shoes. And it crept the whole way up to each and every hair follicle. A loud scream ripped from Sam's throat as he felt like he was burning up from the inside. And then there was sweet nothingness.

**~~**

“Double or nothing,” Dean offered, holding up his wad of cash so the preppy college douchebags could see he was good for it. He made sure to slur his words just right to fool them into thinking he was too drunk to see straight. He'd let them win by a landslide the last game. This time, they wouldn't be so lucky. 

Just as Dean was hoping, they took the bait. They insisted that he break, giving Dean the advantage. As soon as he took his shot, the college students knew they'd been played. Dean didn't let them have a chance to even take a turn before he was calling the pocket and sinking the eight ball.

After he thanked the kids, he got himself a few more drinks before heading back to Bobby's house. Hitting on the bartender just wasn't as much fun alone as it was with Sam giving him that bitchy glare the whole time.

When he got back to Bobby's place, everyone was asleep. Everyone except Jo. Moving to the fridge, Dean grabbed himself a beer, ready to head upstairs and check on Sam. “Hey Jo,” he greeted when the younger hunter met him in the kitchen. “You want one?” Dean cracked her a bottle and handed it to her at her nod. “Did you guys find anything while I was gone?”

Shrugging, Jo took the beer that was offered to her. “Same as before,” she answered. “There's nothing anywhere that talks about breaking a demon deal. There are methods to keep hellhounds away, but other than that, we're coming up blank.” She could see the hopelessness in Dean's eyes. “So...we're researching for a case you're working? Someone made a deal and you want to save them?”

That was the story Dean and Sam had told everyone. “Yeah,” Dean answered, nodding as he took another swig of his beer. “What about Sam?” he asked, eyes ticking to the stairs where he assumed Sam was in their bedroom sleeping. “Did he say anything when he got back?”

Again, Jo shrugged. She didn't believe Dean's story for a minute. There was something else going on here. And she wanted to get to the bottom of it. But for now, she wasn't going to push. “I don't know,” she answered. “I haven't seen Sam since he left. He's not back yet.”

Dean fought the urge to roll his eyes when he was told that Sam wasn't back from the library. The kid was a severe bookworm. Sometimes, Dean knew that Sam got lost in the pages and he didn't keep track of time. “Must have found something worth reading then, I guess,” Dean chuckled. 

There was a moment of awkward silence, both hunters drinking their beers in an attempt to drown it out. “So,” Jo finally started, “Mom tells me that she helped you guys close a Devil's Gate a while back. Does this deal have anything to do with that? Or is it more of a side project?”

Apparently, Jo wanted to talk. That was the last thing Dean wanted to do right now. He was a little buzzed. Well, _a lot_ buzzed, and talking to Jo might get him in trouble. Like he might let it slip that this demon deal was his own, and Sam was trying to break it, which was a bad idea in itself. He didn't want Ellen and Jo to look at him the same way Bobby and Sam looked at him – with pity in their eyes that grew each and every day they didn't find a solution.

He'd made his bed, and now Dean was ready to lie in it. Sam was alive. That's all that mattered as far as Dean was concerned. And if that meant that he had to spend an eternity in Hell, he was willing to do just that. _Protect Sammy_ – that was his job. That's what he'd done.

“More of a side project,” he answered, figuring that was truthful since he'd made the deal before that damn gate was open. “What about you, Jo?” Dean asked in an attempt to get the focus off of him, head tilting to the side. “Sammy and I haven't seen you since the night he got possessed. “What have you been up to?”

Seemingly not realizing Dean's tactics to redirect the conversation, Jo merely shrugged again. Her long blonde hair flipped over one shoulder as she turned her attention to the table instead of Dean. “I've been hunting,” she explained. “Mom doesn't like it, but it's what I want to do. And I'm an adult now, so she doesn't really have a say.”

Chuckling softly, Jo continued, “She goes out on hunts with me now, you know?” When Dean made a shocked face, Jo nodded. “Yeah, she's even been finding cases for us. She said that if I'm going to insist on hunting, at least this way she can keep an eye on me.”

Again, Jo's attention ticked to Dean. “It makes me feel close to him, you know?” she asked, straight white teeth barely catching her bottom lip. “My dad. When I'm hunting, I feel like I have a part of him with me.

If there was one thing in the world that Dean could understand, it was hunting. “Yeah, I get it,” he assured the younger hunter. When he was on a hunt, it made him feel close to his dad, too. John Winchester had been the best hunter around – Dean had learned a lot from him. And every time they were on a hunt, and they found themselves in a bind, Dean referred to his countless hours of training with his father. And somehow, he always made it through.

Just like when he'd lost Sam. All he could hear running through his head was John Winchester telling him to protect his brother. Dean had to do whatever it took to keep Sam safe – it had always been that way. It would always be that way. So he thought about what John Winchester would do in that situation. And he'd made the deal of a lifetime. His brother's life for his own – and Dean was even allowed to live out one more year with his brother. As Azazel had said, it was a better shake than his dad had gotten.

This conversation was going south. Dean didn't need to get into this kind of shit right now. Downing the rest of his beer, Dean tossed the bottle into the trash can as quietly as he could. “Well, it's late,” Dean stated the obvious. “Sammy's probably going to have us researching early in the morning again. I think I'm gonna...head to bed.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Jo stumbled over her words. “I'm gonna get some sleep too, I think. That brother of yours is a slave driver.” Chuckling at her own joke, Jo turned and headed into the living room where her mother was sleeping on the couch. She'd offered to the take the floor, since the couch was probably more comfortable, and Ellen had a few years on Jo.

After Jo was in the living room, Dean headed toward the stairs, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he climbed each step. Once he had the door closed behind him, Dean stripped out of his shirt, kicking his jeans off as well before he climbed into bed. There was nothing from Sam since he'd left. So, Dean shot his brother a text.

_Heading to bed, Sammy. Surprised you're not back yet. Geek. Call me when you're on your way._

With that, Dean made sure his phone was off silent before he allowed his body to relax. Sleep was already pulling at his consciousness and those five – or was it six? – beers he'd had didn't help. Before he knew it, Dean was out cold.


	5. Chapter Five

** Day 1 **

Dean groaned softly as he began to wake up. His head hurt from last night's activities, and he just want to stay in bed. But the sun shining in his eyes had other plans for him, unfortunately. Groaning once more, louder this time, Dean pushed himself into a seated position. A little more awake now, he blinked a few times, eyes scanning the room.

Something was wrong. _Sam_. Where the hell was his brother? Reaching for his cell phone, Dean checked to see if he had any missed calls or messages. There was nothing. “Sammy?” he called, his panic quickly rising. “Sam?” He could feel his heart racing. His mind was going through thousands of scenarios that could have possibly happened to his brother that would make him unable to be here in this room right now.

Quickly, Dean pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. He then padded down the stairs, cell phone still clutched tightly in his hand. “Bobby,” he greeted when the older hunter spotted him. “Have you heard from Sam?” His voice was laced with tension, Dean's body tight as he waited for a reply.

“Not since last night,” Bobby answered, clearly picking up on Dean's distress. “He didn't come back? The library closed hours ago.” A dark, horrible thought crossed Bobby's mind, but he tried to push it out. Sam had promised he wasn't that stupid!

Fear coiled inside Dean, wrapping around each nerve and leaving him cold. “I haven't heard from him either,” he explained, giving the older hunter a pointed look. With that, Dean headed back up the stairs, returning a few minutes later with Sam's laptop in tote. He quickly fired up the computer and logged in to their cell phone provider's web page. “If his GPS is on, I can track him.” Dean wasn't really saying the words to anyone, but more so saying them out loud to make himself feel better.

His little shred of hope was quickly snuffed out when he couldn't locate Sam. “Dammit!” he growled, just barely resisting the urge to slam his fist into the laptop. Sam would kill him if he broke this damn thing. Then again, if Sam wasn't here, and Dean couldn't find him, Sam couldn't kill him.

No. Dean couldn't let himself think like that. “I told him to keep his damn GPS on,” Dean groaned out. “When he got possessed last year, and I couldn't find him, he _promised_ that he would leave that damn GPS on so I wouldn't lose him again.”

Now that the computer was a bust, Dean needed new ideas. He couldn't just sit here and do nothing when his brother was missing. _Protect Sammy_. That's what Dean needed to do. Pushing himself out of the chair he'd been occupying, Dean quickly raced up the stairs. Once he was dressed in jeans and a flannel, he headed back down, pulling his boots on at the door. “I'm gonna go to the library and see if they remember seeing him. If he tries to call or he comes back, let me know.”

That same feeling of dread washed over Dean that he had the night Sam died. He didn't know where his brother was. He didn't know if Sam was dead or alive. He didn't know anything! And it was pissing him off. Inside the Impala, Dean dialed his brother's number, eyes closing when he heard Sam's voicemail on the other line. “Sammy, it's me,” Dean started, feeling tears pricking at his eyes. “Where the hell are you? Your GPS is off! I can't find you! Call me back! _Now!_ ”

The phone almost shattered, Dean slammed it shut so hard. Angrily, he tossed the phone into the passenger seat. Both hands were on the wheel as he sped toward the closest library to Bobby's house. If Sam had been there the night before, someone had to have answers for Dean. And if Sam was still there like the little bookworm that he was, Dean was going to kick his ass for not answering his damn phone!

**~~**

Pain was the first thing Sam was aware of as his body slowly regained consciousness. At first, he didn't remember much about what had happened the night before. All he could remember was leaving Bobby's house to go meet the crossroads demon. Then everything was a blank.

As he started to become more aware of his surroundings, memories slowly started bleeding back into his foggy brain. He'd been taken to Hell with the crossroads demon. And...Lucifer had been there. He'd said that the demon was going to let him _play_ with Sam when he didn't have him. Panic had Sam's heart beating against his chest so hard, he thought it was going to beat right through his ribcage. 

“You're awake,” a voice came from behind him. He whipped his head around to see the smug smile on the crossroads demon's – Mephistopheles, that's what Lucifer called him – face. “I was beginning to think you'd sleep the day away, Sam.” The young hunter's eyes continued to follow the demon as he stalked closer. “And we have so much to get done today. This week. So much to do, and so little time to do it, unfortunately.”

Sam jumped slightly when the demon sat on the bed beside him. He'd changed into jeans and a white T-shirt – not the suit he'd been wearing the two nights before when Sam had seen him. “What are you gonna do to me?” Sam asked, his champagne hazel eyes unable to hide the fear that was coursing through him.

Slowly, Mephistopheles reached up to cup Sam's cheek. “Awww, hun,” he cooed, smile widening when Sam jerked his head away from his touch. “Whatever I want. That was the deal, Sam. For seven whole days, you're mine.”

If he hadn't been rethinking this deal before, Sam definitely was now. “Lucifer?” he asked, pushing himself off the bed. He couldn't suppress the groan of pain that escaped him when his entire body screamed from the action. “I-I saw him. He was...here...last night.”

Nodding, Mephistopheles said, “Yes, he was. But he's gone for now.” Pushing himself off the bed, Mephistopheles continued, “You heard what he said. During the day, you're mine. He only gets you at night after I'm done with you. And he is aware that some nights, I won't be done with you.” Turning his attention toward Sam once more, Mephistopheles promised, “Trust me, you'll come to appreciate the time you have with me, Sam. After being with him...you'll _beg_ for me.”

Unable to stop himself from taking a step back when Mephistopheles came toward him, Sam tried to shrink himself close to the way to escape any more touches from the demon. However, at six foot, four inches, it was kind of hard to hide away. He hissed in pain when the demon gripped his arm roughly. “Flinching away from me will only make this worse for you, Sam,” Mephistopheles assured the younger Winchester. “Now come on, we have a breakfast reservation.”

Once they were topside, Sam felt a little safer. That was until Mephistopheles started rattling off the rules for the week. “When we're in public, Sam, you're going to act like my loving boyfriend,” he ordered. “As far as any of these people know, we're deeply in love. You'll do what I say, when I say, and you won't fight me. Trust me when I tell you, the consequences will be dire if you break the rules.” His tone becoming light and airy once more, Mephistopheles added, “Oh, and call me Matt while we're around other people. Human's minds are so small. They just can't handle my real name.”

A deep frown came to Sam's lips as he listened to what was expected of him. This demon was insane. Or maybe it was Sam who was insane because he'd actually made the deal, knowing what he was signing up for. But it was for Dean's life. There was nothing Sam wouldn't do to save his brother. “I know what I agreed to,” Sam assured him. That didn't stop his skin from crawling when Mephistopheles laced their fingers together.

As they waited for their breakfast, Mephistopheles made sure to touch Sam wherever he could reach. He'd tuck Sam's hair behind his ear, and he'd stroke his face. Sam had to fight back the urge to vomit each time the hands were on him. Sam didn't miss the way the waitresses eyes would flick in their direction sometimes. Or the way she would whisper and giggle with her friend behind the counter.

They ate their food in near silence. Sam had nothing to say to this monster. And if Mephistopheles was talking, Sam sure as hell wasn't listening. When the waitress brought them their check, her cheeks were pink with embarrassment. “I'm sorry,” she apologized, eyes ticking from Sam to Mephistopheles and back. “I don't even do this, but you two are just so adorable together. Would you mind if I took your picture? My girlfriend would love to see the two of you.”

Just as Sam was going to politely turn the girl down, Mephistopheles beat him to the punch. “Of course, you can take our picture, sweetie,” he smiled. Pushing from his seat, Mephistopheles gave Sam a pointed look, letting him know he was to do the same. Reluctantly, Sam stood. Mephistopheles placed his arm around Sam's waist, pulling the younger man tight against his body. 

It took everything Sam had in him to smile for that photograph. And when it was over, Sam excused himself to the bathroom while Mephistopheles paid for their meal. Sam hadn't touched much of his food, but what little he'd put into his stomach quickly came back up. 

The cold water he splashed against his face felt good against his flushed cheeks. Sam missed Dean. He missed him so much, it was almost like a physical ache. Swishing some water around in his mouth, Sam quickly spit it out before he headed back toward their table. He'd already been gone long enough – he didn't want Mephistopheles to come looking for him. 

When they left the diner, Mephistopheles tossed Sam's phone at him. “Here,” he snarled. “This stupid thing has been going off all morning. Dean-o must have noticed you're gone.” Stepping in front of Sam, stopping the younger Winchester in his tracks, Mephistopheles ordered, “Call him back. Tell him you're fine, and you'll call when you can. I don't need him sending out a search party. He'd ruin our time together. And then I'd have to break my end of the bargain.”

Again, fear coiled inside Sam when Mephistopheles mentioned breaking the deal. That could not happen. “I'll take care of it,” Sam promised. Quickly, he dialed Dean's number, his breath hitching in his throat when he heard Dean on the other line. 

_“Sammy, what the hell, man?!” Dean demanded, though the relief that flooded through him was clear in his voice. “I've been calling you all damn morning. You weren't at the library like you said you were going to be. And your damn GPS is off. You _promised_ you weren't going to turn it off, dammit.”_

Although Dean was basically yelling at him, Sam didn't care. He'd missed his brother's voice so much. “I know, Dean,” he answered, holding back his own tears. “I'm sorry. I just...I had to leave for a while, and I knew you'd try to stop me if I told you why.”

_“You're damn right I would have stopped you!” Dean promised. “Where are you? I'm coming to get you.”_

The idea of a rescue sounded like absolute Heaven. But Sam knew that he couldn't allow it. “No, Dean,” he argued. “I have to do this. Please...just stay with Bobby and let me handle this. I'm onto something here.” 

_“Handle what?!” Dean demanded. “We've been doing research for_ weeks _and you haven't been able to find anything. And then, all of a sudden, you just up and leave?! This better be a damn good something for you to just leave without telling anyone where you were going!”_

Oh, if Dean only knew. “It is, Dean,” Sam promised. “I'm chasing down a lead on the demon who holds your contract. I'm going to get you out of your deal. You're going to live a long, happy life with me, and we're going to forget all about this stupid demon deal you made. I just need a few days, okay? Please? I'll call you when I can.”

_“You have a hell of a lot of explaining to do when you get back here,” Dean warned. But he left it at that. “Call me later. And when I call you, Sam, dammit pick up the phone. You're going to give me a heart attack having me worry about you like this.”_

Sam couldn't hold back the small chuckle at Dean's words. “I know,” he assured his brother. “I'm sorry. I'll call you as soon as I can.” Before he hung up the phone, Sam squared his shoulders, eyes locked on Mephistopheles. “And Dean, I love you.”

_“Yeah, I love you, too,” Dean promised. “Even if you can be a bitch at times. Like when you leave and don't tell anyone where you're going.”_

Again, Sam chuckled. He could see that Mephistopheles was getting impatient, so he needed to wrap this up. “Alright, I'll call you later. Jerk.” With that, Sam hung up the phone. Moments later, it was snatched from his hands, causing Sam to jump slightly.

His hand was then forced into Mephistopheles' once more before the demon all but dragged him down the street. Sam could tell that he was pissed off. A part of him didn't care. But there was also a part of him, deep down inside, that was worried about what his punishment might be for making the demon angry. No – he didn't care. Talking to Dean and letting him know how he felt was definitely worth it.

At least that's what Sam thought at the time. However, when Mephistopheles took them back down to the pit, Sam felt the ball of tension in stomach tighten. He hadn't thought they would be spending a lot of time here. At least up there – in the real world – there were other people, so Sam could kind of rely on them to keep him safe. Well, sort of. But down here, it was just him and the demon. 

Only, Sam wasn't being led to the room they'd left this morning. Instead, he was being ushered down the same hallway they'd taken last night. Lucifer was down this hallway – Sam remembered that much at least from the night before. 

He kept his mouth shut as he was shoved through the door, Sam barely catching himself on the rusty railing of the stairs. If he hadn't been privy to the fact that Mephistopheles was pissed off before, he definitely knew now. The demon was obviously going to offer him up to Lucifer for the day. Sam wasn't sure if he was relieved to be away from Mephistopheles, or scared out of his mind to be with Lucifer. Either way, it was a bad situation.

A wide smile came to Lucifer's lips when Mephistopheles tossed Sam toward the cage, the younger Winchester catching one of the bars to keep himself on his feet. “Are you done with baby Winchester already?” Lucifer asked, glee in his tone. 

“Sam's lost his privileges with me today,” Mephistopheles answered. “Maybe after spending the day with you, he'll appreciate the time he has with me a little more.” With that, Mephistopheles turned on his heels and headed out of the room. “I'll be back some time tomorrow to collect him.”

Once Mephistopheles left the room, Lucifer kept his eyes locked on Sam. “Well, I guess it's just you and me for a little while,” he smiled. “I've been waiting so long to meet you, Sam. And now, we have so much time together.” Before Sam knew it, he was trapped inside the cage with Satan himself. “Don't try to get out, Sam,” Lucifer warned. “It'll just make me mad. And I'm _much_ easier to deal with when I'm happy. Besides, I just wanna talk to you. Get to know you. Consider me a friend, Sammy.”

The wide smile on the Devil's lips was the last thing Sam remembered before blinding pain took over him again. It was like he was being burned alive. Every nerve ending was on fire, screaming with excruciating pain. Sam begged for it to stop, but with no avail. Eventually, he must have just passed out.

**~~**

** Day 3 **

Dean flipped his cell phone open, his heart rate slowly coming down. “Sammy?” he asked, breathing a sigh of relief when the younger man's voice came through the speaker. “What the hell, Sam? It's been over twenty four hours since you've called me. I've been texting you all damn night.”

A shaky breath escaped Sam when he heard Dean's voice. _Dean. You're doing this for Dean, Sam. Don't give up._ “Yeah, I know, Dean, I'm sorry,” he apologized. “I've just been really busy, you know. I've been tracking down every demon I can find and getting information out of them about the one that holds your contract. But I'm fine.”

Rolling his eyes, Dean couldn't help but feel relieved about Sam's success on this mission. “Yeah, well, stop ignoring me,” he chastised. “You know how I get when I can't get a hold of you. I just...keep assuming the worst, you know?”

Although he tried to hold it back, Sam felt a tear slip down his cheek. “Yeah, Dean, I know,” he assured his brother. “But you don't have to worry about me, okay? I should be done here in a few days, and then I'll be home. And we can both celebrate you not going to Hell.”

The smile that came to Dean's lips could be heard over the phone. “Mmm...yeah?” he breathed. “You better not be lying to me about the celebrating part. No matter what happens. You know, we have quite a few things to tick off the bucket list still. I'm thinking we score ourselves some cameras and a couple tripods? Make our own home movie? Huh?”

It was impossible for Sam to control the way his body reacted to Dean's suggestions. Any time Dean started talking dirty, Sam would always imagine it in his mind, and his cock would grow in his jeans. “Y-Yeah,” he breathed, eyes ticking to Mephistopheles. It was clear the demon was pissed off. “Sounds good, Dean. Hey, I gotta go. I'll call you when I can.”

Dean didn't want to hang up the phone, but he knew that Sam was working, so he had to. “Okay,” he pouted. “Hey, Sammy, I love you.”

In order to keep himself from openly sobbing, Sam had to bite his lip. “I love you too,” he promised. He didn't have a chance to hang up the phone before Mephistopheles snatched it from his hands and did it for him.

Just like the last time Sam had spoken to Dean, the demon hauled the younger Winchester off to the cage with Lucifer. Apparently, this was Sam's punishment for talking to Dean on the phone. Mephistopheles always got so angry when Sam told Dean that he loved him. And this was his way of showing Sam just how pissed off he was.

**~~**

“Sammy, hey, wake up,” the voice next to him spoke, pulling Sam from his sleep. “Sam? Get up. We have to get out of here. Come on!”

Slowly, Sam blinked his eyes open, instantly aware of the pain in his body as soon as he was conscious. However, when he realized who was with him, Sam's eyes widened, the pain nearly forgotten. “Dean,” he breathed, pushing himself into a seated position. “What are you—How did you find me?”

Shaking his head, Dean reached for his brother. “Don't worry about it, Sam,” he ordered. “C'mere. I'm getting you the hell out of here.”

Sam felt relief wash over him when Dean told him he was getting him out of here. He quickly reached for Dean, almost sobbing when his hand connected with actual flesh. “D'n,” he whispered again, helping his brother lift him from his seated position. Over the last two days, he had been humiliated in public by a demon, and he'd been physically and mentally abused by the King of Hell himself. But now, Sam was saved. Dean was here, and he was safe.

When they reached the corridor that would lead to the outside world, Sam pointed left, letting Dean know that would lead them to the door. He leaned heavily against Dean as they slowly made their way down the corridor – to freedom. 

It wasn't long before Sam could see the light of the outside world. He felt tears sliding down his cheeks as they made their way further toward the door. But as they got closer, something seemed off. There was something blocking the exit. “D'n,” Sam whimpered as his brother pushed forward. Dean moved through the barrier like it was nothing, but Sam couldn't follow. “Dean, wait!” he called after his brother.

On the other side of the barrier, Dean was oblivious to the blockage holding Sam back. “Sammy, c'mon, what're you doing?” he asked, anger clear in his voice. “Let's go!”

More tears streaked down Sam's cheeks as he grabbed the bars preventing him from following his brother. “Dean...I-I can't!” he yelled. “These bars are in the way! How did you...just walk through them?” 

Realization hit him like a punch to the face. “You're not here,” he breathed, shaking his head. “You're not real. They're playing with me.” Slowly, Sam let his hands fall from the bars, taking a few steps back. His back hit the wall of the corridor behind him and he slowly slid down, bringing his knees into his chest. “You're not real.”

Tear-filled eyes landed on Dean once more just in time to see him flicker and disappear. “Dean,” he cried softly, sniffling as more tears tracked down his cheeks. “Get out of my head!” he screamed to the empty corridor, hands moving to card his fingers through his hair. “Get the hell out of my head!”

A _tsk_ -ing sound from the other side of the room caused Sam's attention to shift. “Oh Sammy,” he heard a voice say. “You're just too smart for your own good.” Red eyes glowed in the darkness right in front of Sam moments before Lucifer's form appeared. Sam's eyes didn't leave Lucifer's as the archangel bent down in front of him. “We could have had so much more fun with Dean if you just didn't use that big noggin of yours.” Lucifer's hand landed on Sam's shoulder and instantly, Sam was back in the cage. “Oh well,” he chuckled. “That just means we have to come up with new ways to play, Sam.”

Before the blinding pain that Sam associated Lucifer with could shoot through his entire body, someone interrupted them.“That's _enough_ , Lucifer!” Mephistopheles called out. “You've had Sam all night now. The sun came up a few hours ago. Sam and I have breakfast reservations at a nice little cafe with a view. I wouldn't want to be late.”

At the news of having to give Sam back to Mephistopheles, Lucifer actually pouted. “But we were just getting to the fun part,” he argued, folding his arms over his chest as if he were a small toddler having a temper tantrum. “Fine,” he groaned finally. “I guess Sam and I can just pick this up later.” With a snap of his fingers, Sam was out of the cage. He didn't even have time to think before Mephistopheles was leading him toward his room so they could change and get moving.


	6. Chapter Six

** Day 5 **

Sam stared at the waitress as her back was turned to him, wishing he could tell her how much danger she was in. For her, this was just another day at work. She was just serving a _cute couple_ some dessert before she left for the night. But Sam knew better. Sam knew that if he made one wrong move, this could be the night that the waitress didn't get to go home.

Mephistopheles tightened his grip on Sam's knee under the table, drawing the younger Winchester's attention back to him. “If you don't kiss me when she comes over here, Sam, I'm going to kill that waitress,” Mephistopheles warned in a hushed tone. “I'm going to call her over here, and then I'm going to rip out her pretty little tongue so she can't scream. And once that's finished, I'll rip her spine out through her chest and make you wear it as a fucking necklace. Do you understand me?”

Fear gripped Sam like a vice as he painted the mental picture of the waitress' death. It sounded awful. Sam knew that Mephistopheles liked him to be lovey-dovey in public, but it was hard for Sam. For one, he _hated_ Mephistopheles. And sure, he was a good actor when he wanted to be, but he didn't _want_ any part of this. And for another, Dean never liked it when Sam was affectionate in public. So, it just wasn't something Sam was used to.

But he wasn't willing to be the cause of someone's death, so he merely nodded. “Yes,” he whispered. “I understand. I'm sorry. I'll do better, I promise.” His eyes slipped closed when Mephistopheles ran the back of his knuckles down Sam's face, warning him that he'd better before the waitress finally came back. She gave them some time to themselves since she saw that they were having an intimate moment, keeping her mouth shut as she watched the men kiss softly.

The waitress – Tracy – had the decency to apologize when they turned their attention back to her. It was taking everything Sam had in him not to hurl right there where he sat. Mephistopheles tasted like ash and charcoal – he left a bitter aftertaste in Sam's mouth after he shoved his tongue into his mouth. He tasted _nothing_ like Dean. 

When Tracy was finished taking their order, she left the table, leaving Sam and Mephistopheles alone once more. “How are you feeling after last night, baby?” Mephistopheles finally asked, pushing Sam's long bangs out of his face. 

At the mention of the previous night, Sam felt his stomach tangle up in knots all over again. Honestly, he'd been trying to forget the night before. It had been one of the worst nights of his life. Last night, Mephistopheles had raped him. Deep down, when he'd made this deal, Sam knew that was probably going to happen. Why else would a demon want you for a week to do _whatever he pleased with you_? Sam had just refused to believe it at the time. 

Now though, it was kind of hard to play dumb. Impossible, really, now that Sam had been through that. He was sore, mostly. Mephistopheles had been anything but gentle with him. The demon hadn't even had the decency to use lubrication. At the time, Sam had begged to go back to the cage with Lucifer, but Mephistopheles hadn't listened. Instead, he forced himself on Sam over and over again until Sam finally shut down.

He wouldn't tell Mephistopheles how he was really feeling though. He wouldn't give the demon the satisfaction of knowing that he'd come close to breaking him. “I'm fine,” Sam lied, turning his attention back to the waitress. 

His attention was quickly forced back on Mephistopheles when the demon grabbed his cheeks and wrenched his head toward him once more. “Yeah?” he asked, excitement dancing in his sapphire blue eyes. “Good. That means you won't fight it so hard when it happens again.” Slowly, Mephistopheles allowed the hand on Sam's knee to slide inward, cupping Sam through his jeans. “And it will, baby. _Very_ soon.”

Every fiber of Sam's being wanted to scream _no_. He wanted to shove this demon off of him and run for the hills. But he knew that he couldn't. Sam knew that if he tried to run, two things would happen. One, the deal would be off, and Dean's contract would come back into play. And two, every human in this diner would be slaughtered. Sam couldn't allow either of those things to happen. So he just sat there, body stiff as a board as he stared into Mephistopheles' eyes. “I have to go to the bathroom,” he ground out, waiting for Mephistopheles to remove his hand so he could get off the bench seat.

As soon as Mephistopheles' hand was off his crotch, Sam all but bolted to the bathroom. His aching body screamed at him with each step, but he ignored it. He needed a minute alone. He just needed to breathe for a second. His heart was pounding in his chest so hard he thought it was going to beat right through his rib cage and fall out on the floor. 

Leaning against the sink, Sam squeezed his fingers around the cool porcelain. Images of the night before flashed behind his eyes when his lids slid closed, causing Sam to snap his eyes open once more. _It was going to happen again. Mephistopheles was going to rape him again_. Sam couldn't get the words out of his head.

 _Dean. You're doing this for Dean._ Sam reminded himself of the end result over and over, letting it calm him down. In just a few days, he would be back with his brother. In less than forty-eight hours, he would be home with Dean – he would be safe. And he could put all of this behind him. 

Just as he finally calmed himself down, he was grabbed from behind. He grunted in pain when the small of his back hit the sink. Mephistopheles was right in his face then, crushing his lips against Sam's and forcing his tongue past Sam's lips and teeth. It was useless to fight – Sam had learned that the hard way last night. So instead, he just went lax, allowing Mephistopheles to do whatever he pleased.

“I want you, Sam,” Mephistopheles groaned against the younger Winchester's lips, teeth sinking into Sam's kiss swollen bottom lip and tugging back a little. “I thought I could wait until tonight to have you again, but I can't.”

Again, Mephistopheles' mouth descended over Sam's, cutting off any protests the younger man may have had. His hips rolled against Sam's, rubbing their jean clad cocks together. Sam whimpered with disgust as he tore his lips away from Mephistopheles' in an attempt to stop this from going any further. “B-But we haven't gotten our dessert yet,” he stammered, hoping that would be enough to stop whatever the demon had planned for him.

Mephistopheles' lips attacked Sam's cheek and neck when he lost access to his lips. “I don't care about dessert right now,” he promised, nipping at Sam's neck. “It's pie. It won't get cold waiting for us to come back to it.”

His heart was hammering in his chest so loudly Sam could hear it pounding. “My ice cream will melt,” he tried, swallowing hard. “I-I can't eat soupy ice cream. And it'll make my pie all soggy.” Sam knew he was complaining, but it was a valid point. No one liked soggy pie.

A deep groan escaped Mephistopheles when Sam complained about soggy pie. “Fine, Sam,” he ground out. “I can wait a little longer to have you completely. But...there is one thing you have to do for me right now.”

Here it was. Sam was going to have to kiss him again. Or maybe snap another photo with him. Or possibly let him feel him up again. Whatever it was, Sam didn't want to do it. But he knew that he didn't have a choice in the matter. So, he waited silently, dreading the next words to fall from Mephistopheles' lips.

Mephistopheles' hand moved to the fastenings of his jeans, popping the button before quickly dragging down the zipper. He shoved his hand into his newly unfastened jeans then, pulling out his semi-hard cock while his other hand fisted tightly in the back of Sam's hair, pulling the younger man away from the sink. “Suck it, Sam,” he ordered, forcing Sam to his knees in front of him. “I was _really_ nice to you last night and didn't make you give me anything in return. Well, now it's time to pay up.”

Horrified, Sam reached out, hands pressing against Mephistopheles' hips in an attempt to keep him as far away as possible. They were in a _public_ bathroom! At any minute, someone could walk in and see them! “Wh-What?!” Sam exclaimed. “Here?! Someone could walk in and see us!” 

“Well, then I guess there should be more sucking and less yapping,” Mephistopheles suggested, pressing his dick against the side of Sam's face. When Sam resisted, Mephistopheles all but growled in frustration. His grip on Sam's hair tightened, yanking the younger man's head back so he could look him in the eyes. “Don't resist me on this, Sam,” he warned. “Necks can snap _very_ easily around here.”

At the threat of someone being hurt, Sam lost all of the fight in him. Tears sprang to his eyes when the demon pushed the head of his cock past his lips, Sam nearly choking with the rough treatment. His hands on Mephistopheles' hips tightened, trying to keep the demon from bucking into his mouth again. It didn't work, though.

Using the grip on Sam's hair, Mephistopheles yanked the younger man forward just as his hips bucked, the head of his cock slamming against the back of Sam's throat. He held him there, groaning in approval as Sam gagged around his member. Tears were sliding down the younger Winchester's cheeks, which only fueled Mephistopheles more. 

Roughly, he manipulated Sam's body using the grip he had on his hair, forcing him to pull almost all the way off his dick before he slammed back into Sam's mouth. He was so close, he could almost taste it. With one last violent thrust, he came with a shout. “Oh, Sammy!” he cried out, fingers digging into Sam's scalp as he held him in place, forcing him to take everything he was giving him.

 _Sammy_ – it was amazing how one little word could cause so much damage. Once he was released, Sam coughed and sputtered, palms shaking on the chilly linoleum floor as he held himself up. “ _Don't_ call me that,” Sam warned, eyes locked on onyx, unwilling to back down.

A wide, malicious grin came to Mephistopheles' face at Sam's warning. “You're _mine_ ,” he whispered, stooping down so he was at Sam's eye level. “For the next 48 hours, I will call you _whatever_ I please. And there's nothing you can do about it.” Pulling to his full height once more, Mephistopheles turned toward the door. “Get yourself cleaned up and get back to the table. Wouldn't want your pie to get soggy.”

As soon as Mephistopheles left the room, Sam scrambled to the nearest stall. The contents of his stomach poured into the bowl, making Sam's throat sore with the effort. Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet, his whole body shaking. He felt weak – he didn't feel like himself at all. Before he left the bathroom, he splashed cold water on his face and neck, swishing it around in his mouth to rinse out the taste of his own vomit.

When Sam finally made it back to the table, he didn't even eat his pie a la mode. Instead, Sam pushed the food around with his fork, staring at it with unseeing eyes. _Forty-eight hours – that's all he had left. In two days, he'd be with Dean. He'd be home. He'd be safe._

**~~**

“You don't understand, Bobby,” Dean griped as he paced the kitchen floor. “I haven't heard from him all day. He's not answering my calls, he's not answering my texts. He won't even answer Ellen's calls! Something's wrong! I can _feel_ it!”

The concern was written all over Dean's face. Bobby hated seeing the younger hunter like this. But it was Sam – if he was in trouble, he would have called someone. And Bobby knew better than anyone that when Sam got in the middle of something, he went off the grid until he had a solution. “Dean, you just talked to the boy a couple days ago. He's been busy.”

Angrily, Dean allowed his fist to fall onto the table. “No!” he barked. “I've been everywhere I could think of over the last few days looking for Sam. I've contacted multiple people he could have been with. _No one_ has heard from Sam.” His eyes fell to the floor as he tried to push back the horrible thoughts that were trying to invade his mind. “Bobby, what if—” Dean started, only to have his phone interrupt his question. 

Relief flooded through him when Sam's name popped up on the caller ID. “Sammy,” he breathed, eyes squeezing closed as he finally released the breath he was holding. “What the hell, Sam?! I've been calling you! Get your ass back here. _Now_.”

Sam's voice was sad when he spoke. “I can't, Dean. I'm working,” he argued. “I saw that you were blowing up my phone, so I wanted to call you back and let you know I'm fine. There's a hunter about a day and a half's drive from here that thinks he may have seen the demon who holds your contract. I'm gonna head over there and see what I can find.”

Anger flooded through Dean when Sam argued with him. “Sam, that's enough. You're going off the grid. You're not answering my calls. You're not texting me back. You're letting this damn contract consume you! It's done! Tell me where you are. I'm coming to get you.”

There was no emotion in Sam's voice when he spoke again. “No, you're not,” he promised. “I'm doing this. I've already gotten this far. I'm finishing this. And you're not going to stop me. This is _my_ fault! You made the deal _for_ me, and I'm going to fix it! So just shut up about it, and let me do my job!”

Shock quickly replaced anger when Sam shouted at him. “Fine,” he ground out. “What's the name of this hunter you're running off to meet?” He rolled his eyes when Sam muttered about following him there. “I'm not going to follow you there. I just want to know if I know him. And if I don't, then I'm gonna ask around about him. You know, make sure he can be trusted.”

When Sam muttered the name of the hunter, Dean quickly scrawled it down on a napkin. He'd heard of him. Their father had actually gone on a few hunts with him back in the day. But that didn't mean Dean trusted him. Personally, he'd had no experience with the man, and he didn't like the idea of Sam running off on a hunt with him solo. But he'd give Sam his space – for now.

“Sammy, listen to me, okay,” Dean started, eyes darting up to meet with Bobby's. “Don't do anything stupid, alright? If this doesn't pan out, we can find another way. We've been doing a lot of research back here, and I think we might be getting somewhere.” _Lie_. They weren't any closer to anything than they'd been a month ago. But Sam didn't need to know that. “Stay safe, Sam.” Before he hung up, Dean caught Sam's attention like he always did. “Hey Sammy, I love you.”

A wide grin came to his lips when the younger man confirmed that he loved him, too. When he hung up, his eyes met Bobby's once more. “I think something's wrong with Sam,” he explained. Shoving his phone into his pocket, Dean moved to the fridge, grabbing himself a beer. “He doesn't sound like himself. I think this demon-holding contract thing is really getting to him.”

Bobby had been worried about Sam for a while now. If Dean was worried, that only added to Bobby's own feelings. “What're ya thinkin', boy?” he asked, grabbing a beer for himself out of the fridge. “Ya don't think he's runnin' off to do somethin' stupid, do ya?”

Scoffing, Dean answered, “He's already run off to do something stupid.” Sighing, Dean shook his head. “But I know what you mean. Like a deal of his own, right?” When Bobby nodded, Dean frowned, deep in thought. “I don't think he's gonna make a deal, Bobby. I mean, he clearly hasn't done that yet. If a demon's willing to deal, they're gonna want Sam dead. A life for a life – that's how it was with me. And I don't think a demon is going to give Sam as sweet a deal as I got.”

The smirk that had worked its way onto his lips at his own joke quickly faded when he realized that Bobby didn't see the humor in that statement. Right, too soon to be joking about such matters. “He said he's tracking down a lead with another hunter. His name's Travis. My dad knew him. Even hunted with him a couple times. So, at least I know where to start looking if Sam doesn't check back in with me in a couple of days.”

In an attempt to make Dean feel a little better, Bobby clapped him on the shoulder. “Don't worry so much about yer brother,” he suggested. “I know that he's the youngest, and sometimes we still look at him like he's a kid, but he's all grown up now. He's grown into a damn good hunter over the years. And I think you and I forget that sometimes.”

Although Dean knew that Bobby was right, he couldn't help but worry about Sam. He knew that if he'd run off on this kind of mission, Sam would have been pissed. So Dean had every right to be mad about this. “Yeah, I know,” he assured the older hunter. “I just...I know there's nothing I wouldn't do to keep my brother safe. Obviously – I sold my soul for the kid. I don't want him making the same decisions I made. If I lost Sammy, I don't—I wouldn't know what to do if I lost him.”

At Dean's words, a knowing frown came to Bobby's lips. “Sam's a smart kid,” he reiterated. “He won't do nothin' stupid.” Even as the words came from his lips, he was praying to whoever was listening that he was right.


	7. Chapter Seven

** Day 7 **

Sam sat at the far end of the cage, knees drawn up against his chest in an attempt to make himself as small as possible. Mephistopheles had tossed him in here – well, Sam didn't really know how long ago since time really had no meaning in Hell. The last time he'd spoken to Dean, Mephistopheles had given him to Lucifer to play with, and he hadn't come to collect him since.

Hearing a _pop_ next to him, Sam jumped, curling in on himself even further. Laughter from across the cage had Sam's stomach rolling. He was just _so_ tired. Lucifer hadn't let him get any sleep since he'd been tossed in here. Every time Sam would try, he'd make sure to stop him. There were a few hours at least that he just kept singing – over and over, he'd sing the same song on repeat at the top of his lungs.

And he'd laugh the whole time. Lucifer would chuckle and he'd bark out laughs like it was the funniest thing in the world that Sam was losing sleep. If Sam managed to get a few minutes of shut eye, Lucifer would quickly rectify that situation. There were bruises on his ribs and abdomen from where Lucifer had landed painful blows because Sam wasn't responding to his singing.

Now, Lucifer was throwing firecrackers at Sam. The little ones that would pop on impact – Sam couldn't remember what they were called with his sleep deprived brain. But he remembered that Dean always used to love them. His brother would throw them out of the car window while their dad drove to the next hunt. Dean's smile would always reach his eyes when he heard them explode against the pavement.

 _Pop!_ Again, Sam pulled in on himself. “No sleeping, Sammy,” Lucifer taunted, chuckling to himself as he settled back against the bars on the opposite side of the cage. “I'm Henry the Eighth I am, I am. Henry the Eighth I am, I am. I got married to the widow next door. She's been married seven times before! And every one was a Henry. Couldn't pop a Willie or a Sam, no Sam! I'm her eighth old man, I'm Henry. Henry the Eighth, I am!”

Chuckling to himself once more, Lucifer wiggled against his bars. “Oh, Sam, it's been so nice having someone in here I can talk to,” he mused. “It gets pretty lonely when you're all by yourself in this...big old cage with nothing to do.” Smiling widely, he turned his attention back to Sam, eyes glowing red. “Isn't this fun, Sam?”

Before Sam had a chance to answer – not that he was actually going to speak to the Devil – the door squealed open. “Sam,” Mephistopheles smiled, stopping just outside the cage. “I've come to collect you now. It's my turn to have a little fun.”

As Sam was led down the corridor to Mephistopheles' room, he was silent. Maybe if he asked nicely, Mephistopheles would let him get some sleep. Sure, he knew it was a pipe dream, but it was nice to think he'd be allowed some rest. If he was really good today, maybe Mephistopheles would keep him tonight, and he wouldn't have to go back to Lucifer.

Once they were inside the room, Mephistopheles closed the door behind himself, already moving to undo his tie. “Sam, this is our last day together,” Mephistopheles started, not missing the way the younger Winchester tensed at his words. “In a few short hours, our deal is done, and you can decide whether or not you leave here, or stay with me.”

A wide smile came to Mephistopheles' lips as he trailed his index finger down Sam's arm. “You know you don't have to leave,” he whispered. “You can stay here. With me. Forever, Sammy.” His fingers hooked in the waistband of the sweatpants Sam was wearing, tugging the material down to his thighs. “I wouldn't mind.”

When Mephistopheles used Dean's nickname for him, Sam barely bit back the retort that always shot out of his mouth. “I'd rather die,” he spat in the demons face instead, groaning softly when his hair was grabbed and his head was yanked back at an awkward angle.

“That can be arranged, Sam!” Mephistopheles hissed into Sam's ear. “You're still mine to do with as I please for the next few hours.” Of course, he knew that he couldn't kill Sam – that was part of their deal – but he could threaten him all he liked. “Get on the bed. One last roll around in the sack for old time's sake before I have to give you back. You'd like that, right Sammy?”

Bile rose in Sam's throat, making him swallow instinctively. The last thing he wanted was a _roll around in the sack_ with this demon. But Mephistopheles had been right. Sam was his to do with as he please for the next few hours. And Sam had a pretty good idea that the next few hours were going to be just as horrific as the first time he'd been forced to do this.

But, he did as he was told. His eyes were locked on the floor as he heard Mephistopheles getting undressed. If he thought really hard about something else, it was almost like he wasn't even here. Well, it had worked the last time he'd been subjected to _this_. But with his lack of sleep, Sam wasn't able to just turn it off. He couldn't just drift off in his mind to a place where he was safe.

Mephistopheles roughly shoved Sam backward, forcing him to lay down as he blanketed Sam's body with his own. The demon gripped Sam's left leg behind the knee, forcing his limb upward, bending it roughly so he had better access to Sam's body. Once he had Sam's shirt off, his nails raked down the younger Winchester's back, drawing blood. Sam hissed in pain as tears threatened to fall from his eyes.

 _No_ – he wasn't going to give this demon the satisfaction of seeing him cry. _Just a few more hours. Soon, he'd be home with Dean. He'd be safe. He just had to get through this._ Again, he hissed in a breath when Mephistopheles shoved his cock into him. Just like the last time, he didn't give Sam any preparation or lubrication. And if possible, this time it hurt even more than the last time.

Sam's hands fisted in the sheets beneath him, his teeth clenched tightly together in his attempts to keep from crying out. However, when Mephistopheles grabbed another fistful of Sam's hair and yanked his head back, Sam couldn't help but groan in pain. 

Lips trailed across Sam's skin, starting at his cheek and moving down to his jaw, then to his neck. When they reached his pulse point, they bit down viciously, pulling another cry from Sam. “You like that, don't you, Sammy?” Mephistopheles groaned, hips slamming into Sam. “Like it when I'm rough with you. Just like the little slut that you are.”

Slamming his hips back into Sam, Mephistopheles stilled, grinding his lower body against the younger Winchester's, inflicting as much pain on Sam as he could. He then switched it up, going back to his hard, fast thrusting motions. It wasn't long before he felt his balls drawing up against his body, shooting his load deep inside Sam.

Once his orgasm had subsided, Mephistopheles pulled out immediately, flopping onto the bed beside Sam. He smiled as he slid his index finger through the sticky pink mixture of cum and blood. Without warning, he shoved his finger into Sam's mouth, smiling when Sam gagged on the digit. “Mmmm...” he moaned, arms lifting up and behind his head, cradling it in his palms. “Was it good for you too, Sammy?”

It took everything Sam had in him not to curse out the demon in front of him. He'd learned that speaking his mind only got him into trouble. And he wasn't sure he could handle another punishment for today. It was best to just keep his damn mouth closed. Sighing, Sam merely rested his head on the pillow, waiting for the next horrific thing Mephistopheles could think of to pass the time.

Unfortunately, he didn't have to wait long. “Get over here and clean me up, Sam,” Mephistopheles ordered. When Sam didn't immediately move to do as he was told, Mephistopheles lashed out, kicking Sam in the ribs. “Listen to me when I speak, Sam. Do you want me to throw you back in the cage with Lucifer? Because I will!”

Just as Sam was about to take Mephistopheles between his lips, the demon stopped him. “Wait!” he growled, a malicious smirk coming to his lips. “I have another idea before you get on with that.” Running his hand down his own length, collecting some of the mess, Mephistopheles' smile widened. Without a word, he rubbed the concoction on Sam's face, smearing it across his cheek and his lips. “Mmmm...don't you just look delicious?”

After warning Sam not to move, Mephistopheles climbed off the bed, padding toward his dresser. There, he grabbed his camera, smiling at Sam once more. “How about a little photo shoot, Sam? So I have something to remember you by when you leave me.”

Everything in Sam was screaming at him to speak. He wanted to tell the demon he wouldn't need any momentos because he wasn't going to be alive long enough to enjoy them. The second he was out of here, Sam was going to hunt this demon down, and he was going to kill him. And if Dean ever found about this? Mephistopheles wouldn't stand a chance.

Instead, he kept his mouth shut. It was safer that way. If Mephistopheles knew he was being hunted, it would take longer than Sam would have liked to kill him. At least he had the element of surprise if he kept his secret mission to himself. 

His eyes squeezed shut when the flash of the camera lit up the room. “Now Sammy, you have to keep your eyes open for the pictures,” Mephistopheles ordered. “Those dewy, hazel eyes are one of your best features. Those eyes...and that magnificent body of yours, Sam.”

Mephistopheles snapped one more photo before he stalked toward the bed once more. “I'm sorry, Sam,” he apologized, taking a seat on the bed next to the younger man. “It completely slipped my mind that maybe you wanted some release too.” His hand pressed against Sam's chest, forcing him onto his back. “I just get so caught up in my own head sometimes that I forget about the people around me.”

“No,” Sam ground out, fighting desperately against Mephistopheles. “No! Don't touch me!” Each time he'd been subjected to Mephistopheles' sexual abuse, Sam had managed to stay completely unaroused. Mephistopheles hadn't made an attempt to give Sam pleasure, and he was fine with that. He _preferred_ it that way.

Black eyes landed on Sam as soon as he started fighting. “Stop it, Sam!” Mephistopheles ordered, pinning Sam to the bed with his mind. “You don't fight me. You're _mine_ to do with as I please! And if I want to give you pleasure, you should _gladly_ accept it!” Leaning in further, Mephistopheles hissed in Sam's ear, “You should _beg_ for it.”

If there was one thing Sam was sure of, he knew that he wasn't going to beg for _anything_ from this demon. “No,” Sam whimpered, shaking his head as he clenched his jaw once more. “Don't do this. Don't touch me! Don't you fucking touch me!”

The tears he'd been trying so hard to keep at bay slowly started to leak freely when Mephistopheles' hand wrapped around his flaccid member. “Don't,” he breathed, head thrashing on the pillow. Against his will, his body started responding on its own accord to the sensation of skin on skin contact. “Please, no,” he whimpered. “Stop it. Let me go.”

A wide, malicious smirk came to Mephistopheles' lips as Sam's flesh grew harder under his ministrations. “Oh, Sammy,” he moaned softly, snapping another picture of Sam's scrunched up face. That was a good one. “Your mouth says one thing, but your body is _begging_ for another.” Leaning in, Mephistopheles whispered in Sam's ear, “Don't fight it, Sam. Just enjoy it.” 

As he pulled away from Sam, he nipped the younger man's ear lobe. His hand on Sam's cock picked up speed, thumb circling around the tip and dipping into the slit to gather the pre-cum that was pooling just below the surface. His smile was back when his actions helped his hand move a little smoother, causing Sam's dick to grow impossibly harder.

It only took a few more strokes before Sam was cumming, his back arching off the mattress as hot spurts of cum oozed over Mephistopheles' hand. Sam felt dirty as the demon rubbed his cum over his body, smirking when the white fluid mixed into Sam's pubic hair. “So beautiful,” Mephistopheles complimented, licking the tears off Sam's left cheek.

Sam was going to be sick. He could feel his body shaking as he fought the urge to lose what little contents he had in stomach from the day before. He was disgusted with himself for allowing himself to enjoy that. 

When Mephistopheles touched his arm, Sam flinched away, curling in on himself once more. “Don't touch me,” he warned. The clock on the bedside table flipped to midnight, letting Sam know he was free. “Let me go. Your time's up.”

**~~**

“Travis?” Dean greeted over the phone, barely containing his smile when the other hunter asked who he was. “Dean. Dean Winchester. I was calling about my brother. He told me he was a hunt with you. Look, I haven't heard from him in a few days, and I can't seem to get a hold of him. He's not there, by chance, is he?”

Dean's face instantly fell when Travis explained that he hadn't seen a Winchester since the last time he hunted with John. “Is that right?” Dean asked, unable to hide the irritation in his voice. “Well, sorry to bother you then. If you hear from him, tell him I'm looking for him.”

The phone nearly snapped in half Dean slammed it closed so hard. Panic coiled low in his belly, almost bringing him to his knees. Sam wasn't where he said he'd be. Which meant that Sam had been lying to him. Probably this whole time. Honestly, Dean didn't even have the capacity to be mad about it right now. All he cared about at the moment was finding Sam.

Quickly, his fingers shaking, he dialed Sam's number. Straight to voicemail – just like it had been doing for the past two days. “Dammit!” he yelled, smacking the stack of books next to him in his frustration. 

Just as the books went tumbling to the ground, Bobby entered the room. He glared at Dean with angry eyes. “Some of those books are over 100 years old, and one of a kind, ya idjit,” he chastised. Bending at the knees, Bobby gathered his texts into his arms, safely putting them back on the desk where they belonged. “What's got yer panties in a bunch?”

For a minute, Dean couldn't even form the words. But when Bobby just stared blankly at him, Dean finally found his voice. “Uh...Sam,” he breathed. “It's Sammy. He's in trouble.”

Those words had Bobby on edge. He was used to getting bad news about hunters – it came with the territory. But he _never_ wanted to hear bad news about the Winchester boys. Not _his_ boys. “Dean, what happened?” he demanded.

What happened? That's exactly what Dean wanted to know. “Um...I don't – I don't know,” he admitted, his hand shooting out to grip the desk for support. He was going to vomit. “I called Travis. He said he hasn't heard from Sam. Sammy never even called him to meet up with him. He lied about that. And I – I can't get him on the phone. Damn thing keeps going straight to voicemail.”

Fear flooded Bobby's mind when Dean explained what was going on. “Well, that doesn't mean he's in trouble,” Bobby tried, knowing that his attempt at soothing both of them wasn't up to par. “We just need to keep tryin', Dean! Nothin's set in stone until it is!”

Springing into action, Dean grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair. “I'm gonna go find my brother,” he explained, palming the keys to the Impala as he stormed toward the door. He was going to drive around all night if he had to. He'd stop at every damn establishment in every damn state if he had to – he was going to find Sam.

As soon as he swung the door open, relief flooded through him. “Sammy?” he breathed, jade green eyes raking over his brother's frame. He didn't even have it in him to yell at the younger man, instead gripping Sam's jacket and pulling him into a tight hug. He pressed his face into the crook of Sam's neck, nosing past Sam's flannel to breathe in his brother's scent.

Immediately, he knew something was off. Sam smelled different. The smell of smoke, charcoal, and death clung to Sam, replacing the smell of fresh meadows and flowers he usually had because of that damn girly shampoo he used. Pulling back, Dean's eyes searched Sam's face. “What happened?” he asked, his big brother instincts kicking in when he saw the tears well up behind Sam's eyes. Someone was getting their ass kicked for this.

The rush of emotions Sam felt being back in Dean's arms was almost enough to send him crashing to his knees. He couldn't help the pained groan that escaped him when his brother crushed his bruised body against him, though Sam covered it with a laugh as best as he could. He didn't want Dean to know that he was hurt. He didn't want Dean to let him go. Sam never wanted Dean to let him go.

Tears in his eyes when his brother pulled back, Sam forced a smile to his lips. “I did it,” he grinned. “I got you outta your deal.” He could tell that Dean was about to bombard him with questions, but Sam wasn't up for that just yet. “Don't,” he begged. “Don't ask me how. Don't _demand_ answers from me. Just...kiss me.”

Right now, Dean didn't care if the entire city of Sioux Falls was watching. His hand moved to fist in Sam's shaggy hair, pulling the younger man into a deep, passionate kiss. When the kiss finally broke, both men were panting out their breaths. “Don't you fucking dare do that to me again,” Dean warned. “Not ever. Do you understand?”

Breathing out a chuckle, Sam felt the tears he'd been holding back slip down his cheeks. “Yeah, Dean, I understand,” he assured his brother. “I won't. I promise, I won't.”

A deep frown came to Dean's lips when Sam started crying. “Hey, Sammy,” he whispered, wiping the tears off Sam's cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “What is it?” Concerned moss green eyes tried to catch Sam's champagne hazel orbs, but Sam closed his eyes, shaking his head. “C'mon, Sammy, talk to me.”

“I just –” Sam started, unable to get his thoughts straight. “I just...missed you.” He brushed his lips against Dean's softly, sniffling as more tears spilled down his cheeks. “God, I missed you so much, Dean.”

His frown deepened at Sam's words, Dean forcing his brother to look at him. “Hey, Sammy, look at me,” he ordered. “C'mon, look at me.” When Sam did as he was told, Dean was all business. “I'm right here. I'm not leaving you. Not _ever_. Do you hear me.”

Another sob broke from Sam as he nodded. Dean wrapped him in his arms again, and Sam felt better than he had in a week. He was back with Dean. He was home. He was _safe_.


	8. Chapter Eight

Sam was different since he'd come back. Dean recognized it almost immediately. He was distant. And he was jumpy. He'd barely even touched Dean since he'd come back. Other than that first night when he basically wouldn't let Dean pull away from the hug that they'd shared. Sam had been sleeping on the couch most nights, leaving Dean to sleep in the uncomfortable chair across the room. Because there was no way he was sleeping upstairs without his brother – it wasn't happening. 

Three days after Sam came back, he got a call from Travis about a rugaru in Carthage, Missouri. It was a routine hunt. Just some guy who was going to turn into a monster if they didn't stop him. At least that's what Dean had assumed when they got there. However, when the monster got the jump on them, and Dean watched his brother collapse, he felt his whole world shatter.

It took a total of thirteen minutes to burn the bad guy, haul Sam to the car, and get him to the hospital. As soon as he burst through the doors, his brother was ripped from his arms and taken to a separate room for the doctors to examine him. Dean's world was shattering with each passing second that he didn't get an update about Sam.

About forty minutes after Sam had been taken away from him, one of the doctors emerged. Dean quickly stood, signaling the doctor to walk his way. “Is there an update on my brother?” Dean asked, his throat raw and scratchy after the screaming episode he'd had in the parking lot just a few minutes after Sam was taken from him. “It's Sam. Sam Winchester.”

A small, sympathetic frown came to the doctor's lips when he learned Dean was there for Sam. “Maybe we should sit down, Mr. Winchester,” he suggested, motioning to the chair that Dean had just gotten out of.

“No!” Dean barked, not missing the way the doctor jumped. “I'm sorry. I just...tell me what happened. What's wrong with Sam?”

That same frown was still plastered on the doctor's lips as he started, “Your brother's injuries were...extensive.” He watched Dean's reaction closely. “There was a lot of internal bleeding. And there was some...trauma to his rectum and genitals.”

Slowly, Dean shook his head, having a hard time processing what was being said. “I-I don't—” he started, one hand sliding down his face. “Do you mean rape? Some-Somebody _raped_ my brother?!”

The doctor's frown deepened as he watched Dean's reaction. “Yes,” he answered, sympathy clear in his voice. “The evidence would suggest that your brother was sexually assaulted. Is there any information you can give me that might help us determine when the attack happened? Or by whom?”

Still trying to process everything the doctor had thrown at him, Dean shook his head. “He-He was gone for a week,” Dean explained, eyes darting from one spot on the floor to another, though they weren't seeing anything in front of them. “He was away for work. When he got back...he was...different. But he never—He never said anything to me.”

His eyes ticked up to the doctor's, unshed tears visible in their green depths. “Is he awake?” he asked. “I need to see him.”

Dean was led down a long hallway toward the exam rooms. The nurse stopped outside of room 814, motioning for Dean to enter. He could see Sam lying in the bed – he looked miserable. “Sammy?” Dean greeted, not missing the way his brother jumped when he said his name. “Hey,” he whispered, taking the few short steps to his brother's bedside. “How are you feeling? Do you need me to get you anything?” Sam shook his head, and Dean felt his throat begin to close up at the idea of this next conversation.

But they needed to have it. Dean needed to know what had happened to Sam so he could dish out some proper punishments. “What happened, Sam?” Dean asked, eyes searching his brother's face for answers. “Start from the beginning. Tell me _everything_ that happened after you left Bobby's house for the library that night.”

Sam felt sick. His brother wanted answers, but Sam didn't know what to say. He couldn't let Dean know what really happened. The way his brother would look at him? No, Sam just couldn't. “Dean, it's nothing,” Sam lied in his attempt to brush this off like it hadn't happened. “Some demons just got the best of me. That's all. I'm fine.”

“You're in a hospital bed, Sam,” Dean reminded, clearly upset that his brother was lying to him. “You're not fine. It's not nothing. I know something happened to you, and I want you to tell me what. So I can go find the bastards who did this to you and annihilate them.”

A small frown came to Sam's lips at Dean's words. He knew his brother wanted to get to the bottom of this, but he just couldn't tell him what had happened. “Dean, it was just demons,” he answered, figuring that it was close enough to the truth. _A_ singular demon, and his archangel side-kick, but Dean didn't need details. Sam knew he would be so pissed off if he knew.

It was painfully obvious that Sam wasn't going to tell him the truth, so Dean stopped pushing. “Okay, Sammy,” he smiled, taking a seat on the chair beside Sam's bed. “Are you sure you don't need anything? Jell-O?” He smiled at Sam when he rolled his eyes. “C'mon, Sam, those Jell-O cups are to die for.” His smile widened when Sam argued that he hated Jell-O. “Yeah, I know. So...Bobby's gonna be here in a couple hours. I called Ellen and Jo, too. They're gonna stay here with you until we can go back home. Just in case those...demons come back and try to finish the job, okay?”

Although Sam didn't want a ton of people here, he knew that it was probably for the best. Mephistopheles wasn't exactly trustworthy. If he came back and tried to take Sam, the younger Winchester knew that he wouldn't be able to fend him off on his own. And he surely couldn't expect Dean to stay here with him every second of every day. “Okay,” he smiled. “Did-Did they say when I could leave?”

Sighing, Dean shook his head. “Not yet,” he answered. “I haven't really talked to the doctor about much. He just told me that you had some extensive injuries. Internal bleeding – that's why you collapsed. He wants to keep you here for observation. That's why I called everyone. In case I have to pee, or something. At least someone else will be with you then.”

Again, Sam frowned at Dean's words. “Dean, you don't have to stay here every second of the day,” he assured his brother. “You've probably got stuff to do. I mean, your bucket list might be useless now since you're not dying in a few months, but you could still check off a few bullet points.”

Quickly, Dean shook his head. “Nope,” he argued. “Everything on the bucket list includes you, so it would be pointless for me to run off alone and try to tick off some stuff.” Smiling softly, Dean curled his fingers around Sam's. “I'm staying right here with you.”

When Sam's fingers shifted on the bed, he remembered that Dean's amulet was still in his jeans pocket. “Hey, can I have my bag of clothes?” he asked, pointing to the plastic bag on the bedside table. Once Dean handed it over to him, Sam fished in the pocket of his jeans, smiling when he found his brother's amulet. “This is yours,” he stated the obvious, holding the jewelry out to Dean. “I...uh...I took it before I left. I figured I was gonna be gone for a while, and I wanted a piece of you with me. I'm sorry.”

Dean had been looking for his amulet since it had gone missing the day before Sam left. He couldn't even be mad that Sam had taken it, or that he'd lied about taking it, because Sam's reasoning was so pure. “It's okay, Sammy,” he promised, taking his necklace and tugging it over his head where it belonged. “You look tired. Get some sleep. I'm not going anywhere.”

As Sam allowed his eyes to slip closed, Dean watched his brother's every move. He didn't understand why Sam was lying to him about this. And he didn't understand what he was going to do with this information, either. Did he tell other people? Or did he wait for Sam to come clean? He'd never had to deal with anything like this before, and he was at a complete loss. Sighing, he pressed his cheek against the rough blanket covering Sam's legs, allowing his own eyes to slip closed.

**~~**

He wasn't sure how long he'd been sleeping before he woke with a start, Sam's eyes darting around the dimly lit room. There was weight on top of his legs, a small groan of displeasure sounding to his left. His eyes ticked to the source of the sound. “Dean?” he asked, not realizing that his body had been shaking until he felt exceptionally calmer at the sight of his brother. 

“M'here, Sammy,” Dean slurred in his sleepy state. He reached up with one hand to rub the sleep from his eyes. “What's wrong, baby?” His head turned toward the door, a small frown on his lips when he spotted three police officers outside. “Shit,” he groaned. “Doc must have called the cops.”

Panic kicked into high gear inside of Sam. “Why would he do that?” Sam asked, his heart hammering in his chest. “I don't – I don't want to talk to them. I don't know what to say. I mean, it's not like I can come out and say that demons got the drop on me and kicked my ass.”

Without thinking, Dean's hand landed on Sam's shoulder. “Hey, baby, it's okay,” he shushed. “Listen to me, alright? Just tell them that you don't remember anything. You didn't see their faces. They jumped you, and that's all you remember. Okay? It'll get them out of here.”

Nodding, Sam watched with fearful eyes as the three police officers entered the room. “Sam Winchester?” the tall, African American man asked, eyes locked on Sam. “My name is Agent Victor Henrickson. I'm from the FBI. This is Detective Diana Ballard, and Detective Pete Sheridan from the Special Victims Unit. Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?” His eyes ticked to Dean before he added, “ _Alone_.”

Special Victims Unit – that means the doctor knew that Sam had been sexually assaulted. He felt like he was going to puke again at the thought of the doctor telling Dean what he suspected. But his brother hadn't let on that he knew he'd been sexually violated, so maybe he didn't know? And there was no way Sam was going to let him stay here for this interrogation, either. “Um...y-yeah, I guess so,” he answered, eyes darting to his brother.

“Oh, yeah, I'm just gonna—Christo,” Dean muttered under his breath, watching the officers carefully for any signs of discomfort. When he received nothing but odd looks in return, he smiled. “Is-Is a brand of coffee. My-My _favorite_ brand. Does anyone else want? No? Okay. Sammy, I'll just be right outside, okay?”

Only when he received the nod from Sam did Dean walk out of the room. Sam's full attention then turned to the police officers in his room. He swallowed thickly as Agent Henrickson asked him what he remembered. “I'm sorry,” Sam apologized, shaking his head as he looked each officer in the eyes. “I don't remember anything. One minute, I was walking to my car, and the next thing I remember, I was on the ground. They jumped me from behind. I didn't see any of their faces.”

As Sam spoke, Detective Ballard took notes. “You said _they_?” she asked, finally looking up from her notepad. “Do you remember how many there were?” She gave Sam a sympathetic smile when the younger man shook his head. “It's okay, Sam. You're doing great.” 

After a few more routine questions – like where he'd been when the attack took place, and what he'd been doing – the officers thanked Sam. Pulling out her card, Detective Ballard offered it to Sam. “If you remember anything, Sam – anything at all – don't hesitate to call us, okay?”

With that, all three officers left the room, leaving Sam alone once more. He didn't have much time to regroup himself before Dean was at his side again, fingers carding through Sam's shaggy hair. “Are you okay?” he asked, green eyes pleading with Sam to tell him the truth. He didn't like that Sam was lying to him about what happened. Sure, he could understand it, but he didn't like it.

Sam released a slow, shaky breath when Dean asked if he was okay. No, he wasn't okay. Not at all. But he wasn't about to tell his brother that. Dean had enough to worry about – Sam didn't want to add to it. “Yeah, m'okay,” he assured his brother. “Have you seen the doctor? I wanna know when I can get out of here. I don't—I hate hospitals.”

A deep frown came to Dean's lips when Sam mentioned that he hated hospitals. He couldn't blame him. Especially after losing their father the way they did – Dean hated them, too. “I haven't seen him since this morning. But I can go look for him when Bobby gets here and ask him.”

Almost as if he'd heard his name, Bobby appeared in the doorway. Quickly he moved toward Sam, his chocolate eyes sad as they took in the younger man. “How're ya feelin', boy?” he asked, clapping Sam on the shoulder. “I saw some feds outside. Were they here for Sam?”

“Yeah, they had some questions for him,” Dean answered. “I'm gonna go find the doctor now, okay, Sam?” he asked, fingers brushing against Sam's cheek as he turned to leave. Bobby was here now – nothing was going to get Sam.

When they were left alone, Bobby frowned at the younger Winchester. “Since when do the Special Victims Unit take an interest in a mugging?” he asked, brow raised. He'd been suspicious about this whole thing since Sam had gone missing. And he wasn't willing to let Sam lie to him. “You got somethin' you wanna tell me, Sam?”

Heat rose to Sam's cheeks when Bobby called him out on his lie. If there was one thing Bobby Singer was good at, it was sniffing out the truth. But Sam knew that if he told Bobby, Dean wouldn't stay in the dark much longer. “N-No,” he answered, giving his head a small shake. “I was jumped by some demons. That's all it was.”

Again, Bobby's brow raised suspiciously. “That so?” he asked, taking a seat next to Sam's bed where Dean had been sitting just a few minutes before. “Demons got the jump on _you_? Sam, yer one of the best trained hunters I know. There's no way I'm buyin' that. Try again.”

Busted. Tears sprang to Sam's eyes as he realized there was no way out of this. “I made a deal,” he confessed, refusing to meet Bobby's gaze. “If I gave myself over to the crossroads demon for a week, he'd release Dean from his contract.” Shivers ran down his spine when Bobby repeated the terms of the deal. “Yeah...I was... _his_...for seven days. He could do whatever he wanted to me, and I couldn't say anything about it. One week, and then Dean was out of his deal.”

Thankfully, Bobby didn't ask Sam to go into detail about what the demon wanted from him. But judging by the look on his face, the older hunter could imagine. “Does yer brother know?” Bobby asked, frowning deeply when Sam shook his head. He really hated it when these two kept secrets from each other.

“You can't tell him, Bobby,” Sam pleaded. “Please? If he knew what happened, he'd blame himself.” Sam's eyes fell to the blanket, unable to keep Bobby's gaze as a single tear slipped down his cheek. “If he knew what that demon did to me...he'd... _look_ at me differently. He'd be sick.”

Anger quickly rose inside Bobby. “You know damn well that ain't true!” he argued, instantly regretting raising his voice to the traumatized Winchester. “I won't tell him,” he promised. “Because it ain't my business to tell. But when he finds out – and you damn well know he will – you know it's not gonna change his opinion of you.”

Deep down, Sam did know that. But a part of him couldn't help but be afraid that he was right. He was scared Dean would think that he'd _wanted_ that demon to touch him like that. That he'd wanted Mephistopheles to do all of those horrible things to him. After all, Sam had known what he was getting himself into before he made the deal. All he had to do was say no – but he didn't.

The two hunters remained silent as they waited for Dean to come back, neither one of them really knowing what to say to break the awkwardness in the room. 

**~~**

Mephistopheles pushed his way toward the front desk, sapphire eyes darting toward the Special Agent that was standing next to the computer. “Excuse me,” he called toward the nurse closest to him. “I'm looking for my boyfriend. His name is Sam. Sam Winchester. I was told he might have been brought here.”

As the nurse looked up Sam's name, the Special Agent made his way toward Mephistopheles. “Hi, my name is Victor Henrickson. I'm a Special Agent,” he greeted, extending his hand for Mephistopheles to take it. “You know Sam Winchester?”

Taking the hand that was offered to him, Mephistopheles smiled politely. “Matt,” he introduced himself. “Yeah, he's my boyfriend. He was staying at my place for a few days to get away from his brother. But a couple days ago, I woke up, and he was just gone. I've been calling him, but I haven't been able to reach him. And then a friend of mine told me that he might be here.”

Interest peaked, Henrickson dug a little deeper. “He was staying with you to get away from his brother? Dean Winchester?”

Not breaking his eye contact, Mephistopheles nodded. “Yeah. Dean's made it _very_ clear that he doesn't want me and Sam to be together. He's...well, let's just say that he's not the nicest person in the world.” When asked to elaborate, Mephistopheles glanced at the ground, trying to act the part of the concerned boyfriend he was playing. “Well...he hits Sam. All of the time when he doesn't like something that he does. And...sometimes...he'll _force_ himself on Sam.”

He watched as Henrickson started writing in his notepad. “B-But you can't ask him about these things!” he quickly added, grabbing a hold of Henrickson's arm dramatically. “Sam would never admit to any of it. He's terrified of Dean. And...he's ashamed about what happens to him. But he'd never say anything to get his brother in trouble. The last thing Sam wants is to see Dean behind bars.” Sighing, Mephistopheles shook his head, releasing Henrickson's arm. “I've said too much. I-I should go. Please let Sam know that I was here looking for him.”

Before Henrickson could argue, Mephistopheles was walking away, a wide grin on his lips as his eyes bled to black. On the way out, he grabbed one of the nurses, handing her a sealed box. “Could you be a doll and make sure this box gets to Dean Winchester?” he asked, smiling when the nurse assured him that she'd see to it that it was done.

The smile on his face only widened as he walked through the automatic sliding doors, exiting the hospital.


	9. Chapter Nine

Sam stared out the window of his hospital room, wishing he could be out in the world rather than stuck in this stupid bed. It had been two days since he'd been admitted here, and he was ready to get out of here. The doctor wanted him to stay an extra few days, but Sam wasn't having any of that. As soon as Dean woke up, Sam was going to demand that they leave.

Special Agent Henrickson was still hanging around for some reason. Sam didn't know what he wanted, but he did know that the man made him very uncomfortable. He wasn't a demon, though – Dean had checked before he left Sam alone with him that day he came to interrogate the younger Winchester. Still, he didn't like how the man watched him like a hawk.

Movement from the chair beside the bed had Sam's head turning in the direction of his brother. “Morning,” he smiled when Dean blinked sleepily at him. “How'd you sleep?”

A small groan escaped Dean as he stretched out, face twisted in discomfort. Damn, these chairs weren't meant for sleeping. “Like a baby,” he lied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “What about you? I heard you over there rolling around all night. Everything okay?”

Nightmares – Sam had been hoping that Dean wouldn't notice, but of course he did. It was Dean, for crying out loud. If Sam stubbed his toe, Dean sensed it. “Yeah, I was fine,” he lied. “Just...couldn't get comfortable in this bed.” Biting into his bottom lip, Sam took a leap of faith. “I want to leave.”

Dean knew this was coming. “Sammy, the doctor wants to keep you here for a few more days. He said you're healing well, and he wants to make sure you continue to heal.” Of course, Dean wasn't going to let Sam do anything strenuous when he was released for a while, but he still didn't want his brother to go against doctor's wishes.

However, one look at Sam's bitch face told Dean that he didn't really have a choice in the matter. “They can't keep me here against my will, Dean,” Sam argued. “I can refuse treatment and leave on my own if I want to.”

“Sam,” Dean started, shaking his head. He wasn't in the mood to fight. He'd just woken up, he was sore, and he hadn't even had his coffee yet. Before he could get anymore words out, however, Sam was slamming his thumb into the call button. Dean rolled his eyes when Sam had the audacity to smirk at him like he was getting away with something. 

Two hours later, Sam had been discharged against the doctor's wishes and he was heading toward the car. Before Dean could leave the hospital, one of the nurses stopped him. “Hi, are you Dean Winchester?” she asked, a small smile on her lips. When Dean confirmed his identity, she pulled the box from where it had been sitting on the desk. “Some guy dropped this off here a couple days ago. He told me to make sure it got to you.”

Frowning deeply, Dean took the box that was offered to him. He brushed the woman off with a thanks, quickly following Sam out of the building. When they reached the car, Dean tossed the box into the back seat, figuring he'd deal with it later. When he wasn't trying to keep his brother from doing anything that might make him collapse again.

Once they were on the road, Dean called Bobby to let him know that they were headed back to his place. Ellen and Jo were staying in a motel near the hospital, so Bobby offered to call them and let them know to head to his place as well. Dean ended the call with a thanks. “How're you feeling?” he finally asked Sam, eyes ticking from the road to look at his brother briefly.

“Dean, I'm fine,” Sam promised, shaking his head. “You keep asking me that. Really, I'm okay. I wouldn't have wanted to leave the hospital if I wasn't, okay?” He could see that Dean was upset by his reaction, but Sam didn't know what else to do. He hated that Dean was doting on him like this. “I'm sorry,” he apologized, eyes ticking to his knees before he met Dean's gaze again. “I just...I don't need you to worry about me, okay? I promise, if I need something, I'll let you know.”

The rest of the drive was done in silence. When they finally reached Bobby's place, Sam all but bolted from the car. He'd been harsh with Dean today, but he hadn't meant it. He just needed to cool off – maybe take a hot shower and just relax. It had been quite a while since he could just relax, and not have to worry about anything.

He quickly greeted Bobby, Jo, and Ellen when he walked into the house before he headed up the stairs. When he was in his room, he stripped out of his clothes, not even bothering to take a spare change of clothes into the bathroom with him. Honestly, Sam didn't think Dean would come upstairs at this point. There was no reason for him to, so Sam figured that he was safe.

A deep frown marred Dean's face as he watched his brother bolt up the stairs. If Sam didn't want to talk, then Dean couldn't make him. He'd never forced Sam to do anything he didn't want to in his whole life, and he sure as hell wasn't going to start now. Especially after what had happened to the younger man. Dean wasn't going to risk adding more trauma to the younger Winchester.

Instead, Dean headed to the kitchen, placing the box he'd gotten from the nurse on the table. Using his pocket knife, Dean sliced through the tape keeping the box closed, ripping it open and peering inside. He could feel the color draining from his cheeks when his eyes landed on the contents of the box. Dean knew who this was from. This was from Sam's attacker.

Slowly, Dean reached into the box, pulling the Polaroids out. He felt sick – he just barely held his lunch from coming back up with a vengeance. Instinctively, Dean leafed through each photo, his anger rising with each one. In almost all of them, Sam was naked. He had bruises littering his body from the neck down. 

Even more disturbing were the pictures of Sam and some guy posing together like a cute couple. Anyone else would have looked at the photos and thought that Sam and this guy were a happy, loving couple. But not Dean – he could see the hidden sorrow behind Sam's eyes even through the photos. These had been forced – this guy had been fucking with Sam.

Tossing the photos aside, Dean reached back into the box. There were two DVDs tucked inside white envelopes. Each one had the words _Watch Me_ written across them, and each had a number on it. Although part of Dean didn't want to watch the videos, the other part knew that he had to. He needed to know what had happened to his brother.

Before he had a chance to reach for Sam's laptop though, he was grabbed from behind. His body was whirled around to face his attacker before he was shoved against the table, hard. “Why did you let Sam go see that crossroads demon?!” Ruby demanded, her hand tight around Dean's throat as she hissed out the words. Her face was so close to Dean's she could feel his breath fanning out against her cheek. 

Without thinking, Dean shoved her, knocking her away from him. “What the hell are you talking about?” he demanded, brows knit in a mixture of confusion and anger. “What crossroads demon?”

Realization was clear on Ruby's face as she took a few more steps away from Dean. “You don't know,” she breathed, chocolate eyes taking in Dean's confused expression. 

“Know what?!” Dean demanded. He was really getting tired of all of these games that Ruby liked to play. He'd beat the damn truth out of her if he had to.

A loud scoff escaped Ruby at Dean's words. “And here I thought you kept track of _everything_ Sam did,” she sneered. “He made a deal, Dean! With one of the baddest, most ruthless crossroads demons on the job. He gave himself over to the demon in order to save your soul.” Shaking her head, Ruby's eyes narrowed at the older Winchester. “Didn't you wonder where Sam was for the last week?”

Dean's world shattered at the news. Sammy had gone to a demon and made a deal for him? And he'd lied to him about it. Sam being hospitalized, the internal bleeding, the sexual assault – it was Dean's fault. It was _all_ Dean's fault. “He told me that he was hunting,” Dean explained, eyes locked on the floor as he tried to process this. “He said he was tracking down the demon holding my contract.”

Again, Ruby scoffed. “No, Dean, the demon who holds your contract is still out there,” Ruby assured him. “And I'm betting that she's pissed off that her master plan now has a kink in it.” Shaking her head, Ruby turned toward the door. “Keep an eye on your brother this time, Dean. I'm gonna go see what I can find out. But if I'm right, this demon isn't going to give up your brother so easily. Not when they have _plans_ for him.”

With that, Ruby was gone. Dean slowly turned toward the table again, using it as a crutch as he tried to keep himself from completely losing it. He reached for Sam's laptop then, firing it up as he took the first DVD out of the envelope. Sam was still in the shower, and Dean hoped that he could get through these things before the younger man was finished. 

Everything in Dean was screaming at him to stop. If Sam wanted him to know what had happened, the younger man would have told him. But Dean was curious. Sam was lying about the rape as it was, and Dean wanted to know what else Sam was lying about.

He held his breath as the DVD opened on a dimly lit room. This was it. Sam came into view, that signature bitch look plastered on his face as he crossed his arms over his chest. Dean felt his stomach roll when the demon walked into the room behind him.

_“Did you enjoy your time with Lucifer, Sam?” Mephistopheles asked, a wide grin on his lips. “What did the two of you have to talk about all night? Anything good?” Chuckling, he started undoing his tie, eyes locked on Sam. “I hear that the two of you are becoming quite good friends. Lucifer is pleased with how hospitable you've been when the two of you are together.”_

_Anger bubbled inside Sam at the thought of Lucifer. The way he'd made him think Dean was there to save him was still fresh in his mind. “Oh, are we?” he asked, rolling his eyes. “If that's what he wants to call it. I'd consider it more torture than anything.”_

_Slowly, Mephistopheles walked toward Sam, eyes raking over his form. “I told you that you'd be begging for the time you spent with me after being with him,” Mephistopheles reminded. He reached out then, fingers gripping the hem of Sam's T-shirt as he started to tug the material upward._

_As soon as Sam realized what the demon was doing, he jerked back. “What the hell are you doing?” he spat, that same feeling of sickness he'd been experiencing all week coming back full force. “Don't touch me.”_

_It was obvious that Mephistopheles was pissed off by Sam's defiance. Angrily, he grabbed Sam's arm, forcing the younger man to stand beside him again. “Don't jerk away from me, Sam,” he warned. “You forget that you agreed to this. The deal was you're mine for a week to do with as I please, and your brother is a free man. If you're going to fight me, then I can just have my puppies go collect your brother a little early.”_

_The fear of losing Dean was clear in Sam's eyes, the younger man quickly shaking his head. “No, don't!” he argued. “I'm sorry. I won't...flinch away.” He barely kept himself from shaking as Mephistopheles pulled his shirt off. The way the demon was looking at him made him _very_ uncomfortable, but he didn't move to cover himself like he wanted to. That would only get him in trouble, he was sure. _

_Seeing the bruises all over Sam's body had Mephistopheles hardening in his dress slacks. “I can see Lucifer really did a number on you,” he smiled. “I guess I should be gentle with you considering that he left you all bruised up.” A wicked smile spread across Mephistopheles' lips. “Or maybe I should just add to it. Since you're mine. And I'm free to do with you as I please.” Wickedly, he shoved Sam down onto the mattress, straddling the younger man's hips._

_Everything in Sam was telling him to fight. He wanted to be anywhere but here right now. Sure, when he'd made this deal, it had crossed his mind that Mephistopheles would want his body. But he hadn't allowed himself to actually think about what could happen. Sam knew that he was going to be used in the worst possible way, and there was _nothing_ he could do to stop it. _

_Roughly, Mephistopheles ripped Sam's sweatpants off, returning to his straddling position as soon as the task was done. “I'm gonna take what I've wanted since you got agreed to my deal, Sam,” Mephistopheles explained, grabbing Sam's nipples and twisting violently. A smile spread across his features as he listened to Sam cry out in pain. He watched Sam's eyes squeeze closed as his head was tossed back in discomfort. "I've been very patient with you, Sam. Letting you get used to everything down here. Taking it slow. Well, I want more now."_

_Angrily, he released the abused nubs, hands going to the backs of Sam's knees, pushing his legs up. "Get your fucking legs open!" he ordered, forcing Sam's thighs apart. He pressed his knees against Sam's upper thighs once he had them spread wide, making sure Sam couldn't close them again, his hands gripping Sam's hips with bruising force._

_Without even an ounce of preparation, Mephistopheles grasped the base of his cock, lining it up with Sam's hole, pushing balls deep inside with one violent thrust. He smiled maliciously as the younger Winchester screamed in pain._

_Although Sam knew that it was a bad idea, he couldn't help but struggle against the demon, trying to get loose, although he knew it was useless. But he couldn't just sit there. At least this way he had tried to break free and he hadn't just laid there and taken it. He could tell the demon was getting frustrated when he wouldn't open his legs, which was little pleasure since he knew he was playing with fire, but it was enough to make him squeeze his legs tighter together. Of course, Mephistopheles managed to get him spread open._

_When Sam felt his body press against the mattress hard, Mephistopheles' eyes a deep black as he held him in place, all fun and games were out the window. Sam watched the demon line his dick up with his ass, helpless to stop him. "Don't! No!" He screamed in pain as the demon slammed his cock into into him, pain shooting through his body as he was violated. He redoubled his efforts then, fighting against the invisible force keeping him pressed against the mattress, but to no avail. It hurt so damn bad, and Mephistopheles just wouldn't stop. Instead, he just smiled at Sam, a look of pure ecstasy on his face._

_Mephistopheles drew his hips back, only to slam them forcefully back into Sam's body, pressing hard against the younger man although he was buried to the hilt inside him. He just wanted to add a little more pain for the trouble Sam had caused._

_Sam's breath was slammed out of his body due to the force the demon put behind his thrust, his scream of agony lodged in his throat as every ounce of oxygen was forced from his lungs. He desperately tried to break free from the hold Mephistopheles had on him, but he just couldn't. The demon was so much stronger than he was. Tears of frustration and pain sprang to his eyes, slowly making tracks down his cheeks as he lay helpless under his attacker._

_"Don't you wish you had just been a good little boy and let me have you instead of fighting me?" the demon sneered, pulling back before slamming into Sam's body again, gyrating his hips, grinding into the tight body beneath him, effectively causing his victim more pain._

_"Go to Hell," Sam answered, teeth clenched as silent tears continued to slide down his cheeks as Mephistopheles yanked on Sam's hips, ruthlessly slamming him back against his cock to meet every brutal thrust, his fingers leaving deep purpling bruises where he held the younger man._

_Shaking his head, the demon scolded, "Now, Sam, there's no need to be nasty. I was kind of... ungh... hoping we could maintain a relationship when this was all over. I mean, you and I both know that once Dean finds out about what you did with me, he's not going to want you anymore. And I don't want to have to take from you again when I want you, but that doesn't mean I won't."_

_"Relationship?!" Sam asked, scoffing. "You're a sick, twisted fucking bastard if you think for one second that I'm going to continue any kind of anything with you when this is over. I'm_ only _doing this for Dean. And he'll never know what you did to me. Trust me...it's better for you that way." He struggled uselessly still against the hold, refusing to just lay on this bed and allow himself to be sodomized by this sicko._

 _Releasing one hip, Mephistopheles reached up, grabbing a fistful of Sam's dark brown hair, tugging the younger man's head back harshly, neck pulled taught, wrenched back so quickly Sam was surprised it didn't snap. Actually, he probably would have been relieved if his neck snapped right now. "Do you think I'm afraid of_ Dean _?!" he asked, scoffing. “Your brother doesn't scare me. Or_ anyone _down here. Not anymore. Not when Lucifer is so close to rising. Dean doesn't stand a chance.” His lips descended on the younger man's, tongue pushing into Sam's mouth roughly, forcing Sam's tongue into a wild dance._

_Sam quickly turned his head, feeling the demon pulling out a few of his hairs, but it was worth it to get away from those gross lips. "Don't touch me!" he yelled, knowing it was a stupid order seeing as how he had the demon's dick inside him right now, but he couldn't think of anything else to say at the moment, his brain a little occupied with trying to process the fact that this was really happening._

_"It's a little late for that, don't you think, Sam?" the demon asked, lips quirking up maliciously. Both hands once again on Sam's hips, Mephistopheles jerked the younger man back as he thrust violently forward, his hips continuously moving like a piston inside Sam's ass, his dick jabbing at the young man's prostate with each brutal stroke._

_Pleasure suddenly spiked through Sam's body, causing the young male to gasp in a startled breath, his eyes widening as the demon hit his sweet spot with every thrust. His muscles tensed as he tried not to cum, not wanting to give Mephistopheles the pleasure of knowing he had forced Sam to feel pleasure amongst the pain he was forcing on him._

_"No," Sam cried softly, more tears sliding down his cheeks as he shook his head. "Please stop. Just please, stop," he sobbed brokenly, his body tensing up, neck arching back, eyes squeezed tightly closed, teeth clenched as he fought the inevitable. He refused to let this happen. He_ wasn't _going to cum for this demon._

_Thankfully, Mephistopheles wasn't interested in giving Sam pleasure, his body stilling above Sam as his orgasm ripped through him. He reveled in the screams spilling from Sam's mouth as he was abused, knowing he was being a little more violent than necessary. But the demon didn't care how roughly he took Sam; just as long as he didn't kill him._

A shocked gasp behind him drew Dean's attention away from the computer screen. He paused it on Sam's broken face, tears visible on his little brother's cheeks. “Sammy,” he breathed, pushing himself away from the counter and starting toward his brother.

“Where—” Sam started, shaking his head as he felt his stomach roll. “How did you get that?” 

No, no, no – this wasn't happening. Dean knew. His brother had _seen_ what that demon had done to him. How was Sam going to look at Dean the same way now? Now that Dean knew everything that had happened to him? Dean was going to be disgusted with him. His brother was going to think that Sam _wanted_ what happened to him because he hadn't been able to fight it. 

Dean knew his brother was about to bolt. He'd seen that look so many times over the years. “Sammy, wait,” Dean pleaded, holding his hands up in surrender. “Someone left it for me at the hospital, okay? Just...talk to me. Tell me what happened. Let me help you!”

At the hospital – that meant Mephistopheles had been there. He'd wanted Dean to see what he had done to Sam. The demon was still taunting him. But he'd stuck to his part of the deal – he'd given Mephistopheles seven days. He'd stayed with him for a week, and he hadn't told anyone about it. He'd endured 168 hours of torture, and now the demon had just shattered his entire world. 

Without thinking, Sam turned and ran from the house. He ran through the junkyard, vaguely hearing Dean calling after him. But Sam didn't stop – he couldn't face Dean right now. Only when his lungs were burning, and his abused body was screaming did Sam stop. Leaning forward, Sam rested on one of the cars in Bobby's junkyard, breaths panting out of his body.

“Sammy!” Dean called, searching through the cars until he finally found his brother. He could only imagine what Sam was going through right now. But he wanted to help. He _needed_ to help. This was all his fault. Sam had been hurt because he was trying to save him. And yes, they were going to have a discussion about this. But not right now. Not when Sam was so vulnerable. “Sammy, come on, let's get back inside.”

Before Sam had a chance to answer his brother, his worst fear became a reality. Sam watched in horror as Dean was flung across the junkyard, the older man groaning in pain as he was pinned to a car across the lot. Mephistopheles smiled as Dean struggled against his hold. “Oh Sammy,” he cooed, turning his attention to the younger man. “Did you really think I was going to just let you go?”

Helplessly, Dean watched as the demon pressed two fingers against Sam's forehead before both of them blinked out of sight. As soon as they were gone, Dean fell to his knees, released from the demon's hold. “Sam!” he yelled into the darkness. Sam was gone. _Again_. Slowly, Dean reached up, his hands carding through his short-cropped hair as he tried to remain calm. “Sammy!” he yelled again, tears sliding down his cheeks as he allowed the realization that Sam was once again in the captivity of his attacker to sink in.


	10. Chapter Ten

Sam groaned softly as he slowly started to regain consciousness. He felt groggy – like his head was in a fog. Vaguely, he remembered running out of Bobby's house and into the salvage yard, but that was about all he remembered. And Dean – he remembered Dean.

Oh God, Dean – Dean knew what happened to him. And Sam had been running to get away from him. But then—

Quickly, his abused body screaming with the action, Sam jolted into a seated position. His worst fears were made a reality when he realized that he was in a familiar room. He was back in Hell. That same feeling of dread came over Sam as he rolled off the bed, hoping like hell that the door to the room wasn't locked. But of course, he knew he couldn't get that lucky. 

As he was searching the room for anything that he could use to pick the lock with, the door opened. Sam could feel his body start to involuntarily shake as Mephistopheles walked through the door, closing it behind himself. He hated that this demon could make him feel so weak. 

Steeling his features, Sam forced his broken body to stand tall. Mephistopheles' vessel was almost as tall as Sam, but he had a couple inches on him. “We had a deal,” he reminded through clenched teeth, hazel eyes tracking the demon's every move. “I kept my end of the bargain. Seven days – that's all you got me for!”

“There's been a change of plans, Sammy,” Mephistopheles smiled, moving a bit closer to Sam. He didn't miss the way the younger man took a step back. Sam was clearly not going to come as quietly as the last time. And it wasn't like Mephistopheles could threaten him with Dean this time – the deal was done. And much to his annoyance, there was nothing he could do about it. 

Still, there was more work for Sam to do. Lilith had to die at the younger Winchester's hands. And Lucifer didn't trust that Sam could get the job done with Dean breathing down his neck. So, keeping him down here was the only way to ensure that he played his role. Of course, they knew Sam wasn't going to like it – he probably wasn't going to follow along willingly, either – but there were ways to break a Winchester.

Chuckling softly, Mephistopheles moved further into the room, watching as Sam backed up even more. “You see...Lucifer has a job for you,” he explained, onyx eyes flashing to Sam before they slid back to sapphire blue. “And he just doesn't think that while you're with that do-gooder of a brother of yours, you'll be able to get the job done. So...the more cooperative you are with us down here, Sam, the better it will be for you.”

Sam's back hit the wall as he stepped back further, and Mephistopheles took the opportunity to close the gap between the two of them. “Unless you don't want to go back there, Sammy,” he whispered, finger pressing against Sam's neck and sliding downward until he was playing with the waistband of Sam's jeans. “It's only been a few days, and I miss you already. You could always take me up on my offer – stay here with me. Forever.”

His hand slid lower, cupping Sam's crotch as he groaned, “Mmm...don't you remember how much fun we had together, Sammy?”

When Mephistopheles grabbed him through his jeans, Sam slapped his hand away, shoving the demon with all the strength he could muster. “Don't fucking touch me!” he ordered. His heart was racing inside his chest, and he just wanted to get the hell out of here. “Lucifer has a job for me? Are you nuts?! I'll _never_ help him with _anything_!”

A wide smile came to Mephistopheles' face when Sam tried to argue with him. “You don't have a choice, Sam!” he assured the younger Winchester. “Besides, this job that he has for you? I'm sure you're going to want to participate. It's killing a demon. That's what you do, isn't it?!”

Now, Sam was intrigued. “Killing a demon?” he asked, his features screwed into a frown. “Lucifer can't kill demons? I find that hard to believe.” Standing to his full height, Sam snarked, “Tell him to do it himself. I'm not his little bitch boy.” He'd channeled Dean _hard_ with that last sentence. That's what his brother would always tell him when Sam started going to that dark place he went when there were demons involved with the _master plan_ Azazel had.

Already, after only being in Dean's presence for a few days, Sam was acting out. This just wasn't good. Mephistopheles was clearly going to have to remind Sam of who the boss was. His features darkened as he reached for Sam, gripping the younger man's hair roughly and wrenching Sam's head back at an awkward angle. “Why don't you tell him yourself?” he suggested, dragging Sam from the room and down the familiar corridor toward Lucifer's cage.

Once Mephistopheles burst through the door to _Lucifer's room_ as he liked to refer to it as, he released the hold he had on Sam, unceremoniously throwing the younger man down the stairs. He smiled when Sam grunted in pain, the young Winchester curling in on himself. “I'll come back for you once you've learned some respect!”

“Sam!” Lucifer greeted, a wide smile on his lips as his eyes glowed a deep red. “It's so nice to see you again. When Mephistopheles told me that he'd given you back to Dean, I was just...shocked, really. I mean, there's so much more fun for us to have together. And...I don't like to admit it, but I need a little bit of help.”

Slowly, Sam forced himself to his feet. His right hand gripped his left elbow, holding the aching appendage in a still position. His tumble down the stairs had resulted in a dislocated shoulder, apparently. “Yeah, I heard,” he spat, blood exploding on his tongue when he licked his busted lip. “Apparently there's a demon you want dead? Well...do it yourself! You're the _devil_. You can't kill one little demon?”

It was instantly clear that Sam's words may have been out of line. Against his will, Sam was dragged toward the cage by an invisible force, the younger man gripping the bars with his good hand so he didn't slam his face into the unforgiving metal. Those deep, red eyes were in his face before he knew it, practically staring through him. 

Before Sam knew what was happening, he felt like the air was all being ripped from his lungs. And no matter how much he tried to breathe more in, he just couldn't. His hand reached for his throat, clawing at his skin as if there was something cutting off his air supply. “In case you haven't noticed, Sam, I'm _locked_ in a _cage_!” Lucifer stated the obvious. “If I could get out, I'd gladly kill the demon myself. But I can't! So that leaves you!”

Just as Sam was about to slip into the sweet salvation of unconsciousness, whatever was obstructing his airway was gone. Sam gasped in deep breaths, the younger man falling to his knees as he breathed deeply. A few coughs escaped Sam's mouth as he finally turned his attention to Lucifer. “Fine,” he ground out. “I kill this demon for you, and you let me go? And leave me the hell alone?”

“Sure,” Lucifer answered with a shrug. “I can personally guarantee that once you kill this demon for me, Mephistopheles will never come after you again.” A wide smile came to his lips when he saw Sam's resolve fading. “So, do we have a deal, Sam?”

Although he knew it was a bad idea, Sam wasn't sure he really had a choice. Then again, it was a deal that had gotten him into this mess in the first place. Still, something told him he wasn't going to make it out of this place alive if he didn't play along. “What do I have to do?” Sam asked, scared champagne hazel eyes searching Lucifer's bright reds.

The smile on his lips widened when Sam seemed interested in the deal. “Well, this demon isn't like the ones that you've faced before,” he explained. “She's _powerful_ – more so than those lower level demons you're used to. She was the _first_ demon.” Lucifer glanced off into the distance, staring at something Sam couldn't see. His voice was almost nostalgic as he continued. “She was just a meager human when I found her. But I twisted her soul myself – bent her to my will after I was banished from Heaven by my father.”

Unsure if he should interrupt, Sam bit his tongue. He just didn't understand why Lucifer wanted Lilith to die if he'd made her himself. Unable to keep his curiosity at bay, Sam finally spoke, “I don't understand. If you created her, why do you want her to die?”

This time, when Lucifer turned his attention to Sam, his smile didn't reach his eyes. “She has to,” he explained simply. Rubbing his hands together, he geared up to let Sam in on the secret way to kill his prodigy. “So...I hope you're hungry,” he chuckled. “You need to be chalk full of demon blood in order to kill her. Basically, you'll have to chug the stuff for a few weeks to hone your skills and then you'll be ready. Exciting, I know!”

Horror was clear on Sam's face as he stumble-stepped backward away from the cage. “What?” he asked, head shaking in disbelief. “That-That's _insane_! I'm not drinking demon blood! There are other ways to kill demons. I've seen a knife that can kill demons. I can get my hands on it, and I can kill her that way.”

Lucifer chuckled when Sam mentioned the knife. “Oh, the demon killing knife that the abomination Ruby runs around with?” he asked. “Do you really think that's going to work on the oldest demon in existence? Use that big brain of yours, Sam! This is the only way.”

Quickly, Sam shook his head. “No,” he whispered. “I won't do it. I'm not going to drink _demon_ blood!” Or blood of any kind. 

Again, Lucifer became enraged by Sam's defiance. “Well, Sam, who said that you have a choice in the matter?!” he demanded. “If you don't want to play along willingly, we can _make_ you do it. But let me advise against that. The longer this takes, the longer you're going to be away from that precious brother of yours.”

Fear hit Sam like a brick. He didn't want to be away from Dean for any length of time. Even now that Dean knew what had happened to him, Sam just wanted to go talk it out with his brother. But he knew that there was no way he was getting out of here without doing as he was told. Playing his role, as Lucifer had called it. “You can't make me,” he argued, shaking his head. “I won't let you.”

Narrowing his eyes, Lucifer promised, “We'll see about that, Sam.” With that, Lucifer turned and headed toward the opposite side of the cage. Before Sam knew it, he was inside the cage with Lucifer. He barely had time to register what had happened before that familiar blinding pain shot through every inch of his body, sending him crashing to his knees.

**~~**

“Where the hell is my _brother_ , Ruby!” Dean growled as he paced the length of the kitchen. He'd been searching everywhere for Sam, and this was his last resort. Ruby had popped in here running her mouth about how Dean couldn't follow simple instructions, and he just wasn't in the mood to deal with her shit. “You said you knew this demon who grabbed him. Where would he take him?!”

A deep frown came to Ruby's lips when Dean yelled at her. “Don't get mad at me!” she chastised. “You were the one who was in charge of watching him!” Her frown deepened when Dean just stared at her angrily. “Look, if this demon is who I think he is, then I know where Sam is. He's in Hell. That's where Mephistopheles takes all of his victims.”

Dean felt his stomach drop when he learned that Sam was in Hell. “Well...get your ass down there and bring him back!” he demanded. He had no idea what this bitch was waiting for. If Sam was in Hell, it was her job to bring him back. It wasn't like Dean could just go down there and get him himself – otherwise, he would have.

Rolling her eyes, Ruby explained, “I can't just go down there and get him! It's more complicated than that, Dean! If they have him down there, it's for a reason! They're going to want to trade something. And in case you haven't noticed, they don't like me very much! Therefore, I have nothing to trade!”

His mind was working a mile a minute as Dean tried to figure out a solution. His brother was gone, and he needed to get him back. “Me,” he finally piped up. “Take me down there. If he can teleport Sam down there, then you should be able to take me down there, too. I can go down, and I can get him myself.”

Slowly, Ruby shook her head. “Dean, that's...risky,” she argued. “I don't think—”

“I don't really give a rat's ass what you think, Ruby!” Dean interrupted her, fist slamming down on the table. “Sammy's down there, and I need to get him back. So you can either help me, or you can stay the hell out of my way!”

Before Ruby had a chance to make a decision, the room started to shake as if there was an earthquake tearing through South Dakota. There was a loud, high pitched single tone suddenly screeching through the air, causing Dean to groan in pain as he clutched at his ears. One look at Ruby let him know that the demon was high tailing it out of here, her empty vessel falling to the ground next to Dean.

Windows shattered all around him, Dean jumping into the living room to get away from the shards of glass as he curled himself into the fetal position, hands still clasped over his ears. The sound intensified as the TV in the corner flicked on, static on the small screen. The radio on Bobby's desk screamed with white noise – it all combined to give Dean one hell of a headache.

Just as Dean thought his ear drums were going to explode, Bobby came rushing into the room, falling to his knees beside Dean. “Dean!” he exclaimed, gripping the younger man's shoulders and giving him a hard shake.

As suddenly as it had started, the noise around him stopped, Dean blinking slightly in an attempt to make his head stop hurting so badly. “What the hell was that?” he asked, pushing himself to his feet. When Bobby just looked at him with a worried expression, Dean knew it couldn't be anything good. As if he didn't have enough on his plate already, now there was something else they needed to worry about.

Dean slowly pushed himself to his feet, groaning in aggravation as his head pounded. “We need to get Ruby back here,” he grumbled. “She said the demon who took Sammy has him in the pit. I need her to get me down there so I can save Sam.”

The look of disbelief on Bobby's face was clear. “You want to go to to Hell and get yer brother?!” he asked, just to make sure that he had it right. “Are you nuts?! People can't just go waltzing around in Hell!”

“Well, what choice do I have, Bobby?!” Dean asked, arms thrown wide at his sides. “It's _Sam_! And he's in trouble!” Dean could feel the tears pricking at his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. “He's in this mess because of me. And I'm gonna get him out of it.”

Without another word, Dean grabbed his jacket, leaving Bobby's house and climbing into the Impala. Ruby's vessel was lying on Bobby's floor rotting, which meant Dean had no idea where he was supposed to start looking for her. For all he knew, she was some old man running around trying to sell small kids candy. Dean was at such a disadvantage right now.

As he was driving, that loud ringing noise started once more. It was faint at first, but slowly became louder and louder. Unable to take the intense pain in his head, Dean veered off the road, throwing his baby into park before he quickly exited the car. He fell to his knees at the sound grew louder, screaming in pain over whatever was making that noise.

Just as he thought he was going to lose consciousness, the noise stopped. Slowly, Dean blinked past the pain again, trying to process what was happening. His eyes ticked from one end of the road to the other, checking for any signs of whatever might be responsible for those god awful noises. There was nothing there. He was alone on the road. 

Groaning in pain, Dean pushed himself to his feet. His phone vibrated in his pocket, forcing his attention to it. “Bobby?” he greeted, eyes squeezed closed in discomfort when the older hunter's voice made his head throb. “What?” There was a pause as Bobby spoke. “I don't know, Bobby. I was going to look for Ruby, but I don't even know who I'm looking for at this point.” Again, there was a pause. “Jo? What about her?” 

Anger filled Dean as he listened to Bobby's story about Jo having been jumped by demons. “Alright, keep them both there,” he ordered. “I'm on my way.” Angrily, he slapped the phone shut, climbing back into the car and heading toward Bobby's house once more. 

When he got there, Ellen and Bobby were going at it like a married couple, and Jo was trying to keep the peace. She looked like she'd gone ten rounds with a brick wall and lost. But she'd live. And that's all that mattered right now. “Hey!” Dean yelled, trying to get everyone's attention. “Everyone just be quiet! We all need to calm the hell down!”

No one was listening to him. Dean had half a mind to pull his gun out of his waistband and fire off a shot. He understood that Jo had been attacked, and the demons who'd been responsible would pay for it. But right now, Dean had bigger problems. Right now, Sam was the priority.

Before he made the decision to pull his gun, the door burst open, quieting the residents of the Singer home. A handsome man in a business suit slowly entered the house, light bulbs above his head shattering behind him as he stalked toward Dean. Now, Dean pulled his weapon, the other hunters in the house following suit. As the man continued to walk toward them, they all open fired. The bullets did nothing to slow him down.

When he got close enough, Dean grabbed the demon killing knife from Ruby's vessel's waistband, thrusting it into the new arrival's chest. Not even phased by the blade sticking out of his chest, the man merely looked down at it. Dean backed away as the new arrival pulled the knife from his chest, dropping it to the ground. Beside him, Bobby attacked. Still, the man wasn't bothered by the attacks, instead grabbing Bobby's weapon without turning his attention from Dean, twisting the older hunter around and pressing his fingertips to Bobby's forehead.

Bobby's body crumpled to the ground as soon as he was touched. It wasn't long before the man did the same to both Ellen and Jo – he moved so fast Dean didn't even realize what was going on. He then set his sights on Dean once they were the only two left standing. “Hello, Dean,” the man's deep, masculine voice rattled. “We need to talk. Alone.”

Quickly, Dean dropped to his knees, checking Bobby's pulse. He heard the man assure him that his friends were alive, but he took his time checking just to make sure. “Who are you?” he finally asked, satisfied that his friends were indeed okay. 

“Castiel,” the man answered. He listened as Dean asked what he was. Castiel moved toward the table, fingers sliding across the bindings of some old textboos Bobby had strewn about. “I am an angel of the Lord,” he finally answered, sapphire blue eyes locked on Dean.

Dean barely suppressed the scoff that wanted to escape him at the man's words. Dean really hated liars. And he _really_ didn't have time for this today. “Get the hell out of here,” he argued, not missing the way the man's head tilted to the side as he stared at Dean – almost like he was studying him. “There's no such thing.”

The angel's eyes narrowed when Dean refused to believe. “This is your problem, Dean,” he explained. “You have no faith.” Suddenly, lightning flashed and the shadow of great wings appeared on the wall behind Castiel, stretching off into the distance. The light disappeared along with the image of the wings. “I'm sorry about earlier. My true form, it can be...overwhelming to humans, as well as my real voice.”

Realization hit Dean like a ton of bricks. “Here at the house earlier? And in the car?” he asked. “That was you talking?” Castiel nodded. “Buddy, next time, lower the volume.”

Castiel actually looked sorry as he explained, “That was my mistake. Certain people, special people, can perceive my true visage. I thought you would be one of them. I was wrong.” He frowned slightly when Dean cracked what humans would refer to as a joke about what visage he was wearing now. “This? This is...” Castiel grabbed the ends of his trench coat, smiling at Dean. “...a vessel.”

Anger suddenly bubbled inside Dean. “You're possessing some poor bastard?” Dean asked, still very unsure how he felt about all of this angel business.

The look of confusion on Castiel's features was clear as he tilted his head to the other side. “He's a devout man,” he started, obviously trying to get on Dean's good side. “He actually prayed for this.”

Shaking his head, Dean argued, “Well, I'm not buying what you're selling, so who are you really?” Angels? Really? Dean could believe in demons, because bad things always happened. But if there were angels, that meant there was a God. And if there was a God, surely he wouldn't just sit back and watch as the world went to shit.

Now, Castiel was becoming angry. “I told you,” he assured Dean, frowning.

“Right,” Dean scoffed. “And why would an angel come to me? What possible reason would an angel have to come down to Earth, off its perch, and come to talk to me?”

All business now, Castiel stood at his full height, shoulders back. “Because God commanded it,” he answered, figuring that was all Dean needed to know at the time. “Because we have work for you.”

Honestly, Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing right now. “Work for me?” he asked, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, I'm not interested. I have bigger things on my plate than some angel popping in here and trying to tell me he has work for me. My _brother_ needs me. So, if you'll excuse me, I need to go find a demon who will get me to Hell to save Sam.”

When Dean tried to walk past Castiel, the angel stopped him. There was murder in Dean's eyes when he glared at Castiel. “You would ignore a direct job from the Lord?” Castiel asked. “We were told to come find you. To _stop_ you from getting your brother. He is right where he needs to be, Dean.”

Without thinking, Dean threw his fist, clocking Castiel on the jaw. The man's head turned to the side, but Castiel showed no other signs of injury. Meanwhile, Dean's hand felt like it had been broken, it hurt so badly. “Don't you _dare_ come in here and act like you're some boss man. I'm going to save my brother. And there's nothing you can do about it.”

The last thing Dean remembered before his world went black was the sympathetic look he received from the angel before Castiel pressed his fingertips to Dean's forehead. Then, it was lights out for Dean Winchester.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Dean groaned softly as he slowly came to. Memories of a man in a trench coat filled his head, leaving him irritable and confused. When he tried to move, Dean realized that he was bound. His eyes blinked open, taking a moment to adjust to the dimly lit room. He took in everything he could – he was bound to a chair, for one. There was a distinct musty smell about the room, leading Dean to believe it was either a basement, or a warehouse. The lack of windows led Dean to believe it was a warehouse.

Movement across the room drew Dean's attention to the other occupant. It was the man in the trench coat – Castiel. “Some angel of the Lord,” he ground out, tugging at his bindings. He needed to get out of here. “I tell you that Sammy's in trouble, and your brilliant idea is to kidnap me and keep me from helping him.”

“I am following orders,” Castiel explained. “Your brother is destined to be headed down a dark path. Where he is now – he's not going to hurt anything there.” Turning his attention from the wall that he had been staring at to Dean, Castiel continued, “You have bigger things to worry about. There is a war coming, Dean. And you are the only one who can stop it.”

Anger shot through Dean as he listened to Castiel bash his brother. “I don't care about your damn war!” Dean assured the angel. He didn't care who he pissed off by refusing to help – he only cared about getting his brother back. “You know this isn't going to end well for you, right?” Straightening up in his chair to look as intimidating as possible tied up like this, Dean locked eyes with the angel. “When things try to keep me and my brother apart, they tend to not live to tell the tale.”

Listening to Dean, Castiel straightened himself, Dean watching his every movement. This angel was an arrogant douchebag – Dean could see it now, and he'd only known him for a few hours. “If you try to get in the way of me getting to brother, I will _end_ you.”

A deep frown marred Castiel's face as he tilted his head once more. Dean hated it when the angel did that. He felt like he was being analyzed. “I am not afraid of you, Dean,” Castiel promised. “You are a human. I am an angel. There is no match between the two of us. If you fight me, I will win.”

Now, Dean was taking that as a challenge. Leaning forward in his chair as much as he could, he smiled at Castiel. “Do you wanna put that to the test?” he asked, eyes dancing with mischief. “How about you untie me, and we can see who the better man is.”

Again, Castiel frowned. “I am not a man,” he reminded. Turning away from Dean, Castiel moved to the opposite side of the room. He had been instructed to watch the older Winchester until his brothers could get here to collect him. The Michael sword was not to be left alone unless absolutely necessary. After all, Dean was going to be their greatest weapon against Lucifer if it came down to that.

Before Dean had a chance to say anything else, there was a bright, blinding light in front of him. Castiel cried out in pain as his back bowed moments before he disappeared from the room. Dean, having squeezed his eyes closed against the light, slowly allowed them to open again. Blinking rapidly, he looked around the room, searching for any signs of Castiel.

He didn't find the angel, but there was another man in the room. The new arrival was short in stature, his brown hair cropped tightly against his head. He was wearing a dapper suit, his dress shoes polished so they shined even in the dimly lit room. “Hello, Dean,” he greeted, his voice thick with an British accent.

Wary of this new arrival, Dean glared at him. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded, not liking that he was at a disadvantage with so many things knowing his name when he had no clue who they were. 

The new arrival smiled as he started moving closer to Dean. His eyes flashed a deep red color as he snapped his fingers, releasing Dean from his bindings. “I'm Crowley,” the demon explained. “King of the Crossroads. And you're Dean Winchester. You were supposed to be one of mine.”

As soon as he was released, Dean got out of the chair, ready for a fight. “Yeah?” he asked, eying the demon suspiciously. “So what? You came to collect your prize, or something? Can't say that I'm gonna let you do that.”

“Not exactly,” Crowley answered, shaking his head. “I'm not here to fight you, Dean. I'm here because of Sam.” He saw how Dean's attitude instantly changed when he spoke the younger Winchester's name. “It seems the moose has gotten himself into a little bit of trouble. And I want to help you get him out of it.”

Scoffing, Dean shook his head. “You want to help me get Sam back?” he asked, obviously not buying the lie. “ _You_? A _demon_ wants to help me get my brother out of Hell? Wow...yeah, that's rich.” Dean honestly didn't even know what to believe anymore. There were angels apparently – who were just feathered douchebags – and a demon wanted to help him save his brother. The world just wasn't what it used to be. “I'm listening.”

Crowley knew going in that Dean probably wasn't going to openly believe him about his intentions. But he was doing it for purely selfish reasons, so he had every intention of letting Dean know the whole story. “Mephistopheles took your brother down to Hell, where he intends to start the Apocalypse using Sam. Lucifer, Dean – the Devil himself – he wants to let him off his leash. And that's not just bad for you, but it's bad for me, too.”

Confusion clear on his face, Dean asked, “Why is that bad for you? Isn't the Devil a demon's equivalent to God? Shouldn't you be happy that he's trying to bust out and take over the world?” Dean was new to this whole angel crap, so he was still learning.

Clearly, there was a lot for Dean to learn. But Crowley didn't have time for a lesson today. “Lucifer isn't a demon, remember?” he asked, hoping that the Winchester at least knew that much. “He's an angel. An angel famous for his hatred of humankind. To him, you're just filthy bags of pus.” Waiting a beat to make sure Dean was still on board, Crowley continued, “If that's the way he feels about you, what can he think about us?”

Again, Dean frowned. “But he created you,” Dean said, hoping that he got his history right. When he was younger, Mary had read him some of the bible verses. It wasn't a lot, and it had been a _long_ time ago, but some of it had stuck.

Impressed a little bit by Dean's knowledge, Crowley shrugged. “To him, we're just servants,” he explained. “Cannon fodder. If Lucifer manages to exterminate humankind, we're next. So, help me, huh? I'll get you down to Hell to save your brother, and Lucifer can stay locked up nice and tight in his cage? Sound good?”

It sounded good in theory. But Dean knew better than to trust a demon so quickly. “So...you can get me to my brother?” Dean asked, watching warily as Crowley nodded. “And what's the catch? Because I've been around long enough to know that with you guys, there's always a catch.”

Typical Winchester – trust issues. “There is no catch,” Crowley promised. “I just want the Devil to stay right where he is. I want to continue living our lives in a simple manner where we can all act out our natures. I'm in sales, dammit! So, what do you say, we get Sam back and keep Lucifer locked in his cage to rot?”

When Dean didn't answer right away, Crowley started to get antsy. “You might want to hurry up the thinking process, Dean. If that angel comes back, you lose your chance to rescue Moose, and I put all of my eggs in another basket.”

Without giving himself a chance to talk himself out of it, Dean nodded. “Alright, fine. Let's do this,” he answered. With another snap of Crowley's fingers, Dean found himself in a strange place. He recognized it from the video Mephistopheles had sent him. He was in Hell. “Crowley?” Dean called, looking around for the demon. Apparently, this was the catch – Crowley wasn't here with him, which meant Dean had to find his own way around Hell. Shouldn't be too hard.

**~~**

“Don't!” Sam cried out, trying to wiggle away from the demon in front of him as best as he could with the chains binding him. “Stop! Stop it! Don't touch me!” The demon sneered as it got closer, twirling the syringe in his hand. “Don't you touch me. Don't you fucking touch me!”

The needle slid into the muscles in Sam's neck, eliciting another scream from the younger Winchester. As soon as the demon shot his blood into Sam's system, he felt different – stronger, more aware of his surroundings. He felt _better_ – better than the man he'd been before. Better than _anyone_. It was like nothing could stop him. 

Sam wasn't sure how long he'd been here. He knew that time traveled differently in Hell than on Earth – Mephistopheles had told him that when they were bouncing between worlds. But Sam hadn't been allowed out of Hell since Lucifer had him dragged back down here. And once he'd been chained to the rack, time lost all meaning. All he knew now was pain. When they weren't pumping him full of demon blood, they were torturing him.

Leaning in close to Sam's ear, the demon promised, “We'll be back later to give you another dose.” Chuckling, he pulled back, onyx eyes searching Sam's face. “Junkie,” he taunted, his fist landing a solid blow to Sam's rib cage. 

As the demon walked out of the room, Sam watched his every move. He was going to kill him when he got off of here. First, he'd kill Lilith, as planned, and then he'd go after the demon who thought he was good enough to call him a damn junkie. They'd _made_ him like this! Every time they came in to give Sam the blood, he fought against them as best as he could. Even now, he tried to fight. But it was getting harder each time. Sam couldn't deny the fact that he wanted to feel this way. When the blood was leaving his system, Sam felt weak – he felt drained. And he needed a pick me up.

It was happening faster now, too. Back when Mephistopheles had first forced that bit of blood into Sam's system, he'd gone for weeks without wanting another dose. But now, Sam could only last a couple hours at best. The last time Mephistopheles had made an appearance, he'd told Sam that Lucifer was pleased with his progress. That he was _almost ready_. 

That had been days ago from what Sam could figure. Now, it was just the heavy-set man who came to see him. The one who apparently thought Sam was a junkie. The door creaked open again, revealing a new face that Sam had never seen before. “Who are you?” he asked, watching the demon warily as it crossed to the other side of the room. There was a table in the corner, and the demon picked up something off of it.

Keys – Sam could see them dangling in the demon's hand. Was he being...rescued? Surely not. There was no such thing as a good demon down here. They all wanted the same thing – torture, blood, mayhem. There was no chance of mercy when it came to these demons.

Still, the demon walked over to Sam and released him from his chains. “It's time to test your strength, Sam,” the demon smiled, backing away from the younger Winchester. 

A deep frown came to Sam's lips when the door slammed open again. Two demons were hauling in a body. Sam could only imagine it was a demon who had pissed off the wrong people. The demon was struggling against its comrades, trying desperately to get free, but to no avail. Sam listened as he begged the other demons to let him go. Begged for mercy that Sam knew would never come.

The last time Sam had been taken off the rack for a lesson, it hadn't gone all that well. Sam had been able to exorcise the demon, but he hadn't been able to kill it. He'd tried – he'd given it all he could, but he just hadn't been strong enough. Mephistopheles had insisted they increase his daily dose before they tried again. Sam had fought him then – he'd screamed and used his newly found powers to get away. But he hadn't been strong enough.

Today, he was going to do better. He could feel it in his veins – the blood was pumping nice and strong. All he had to do was not fight it. Sam just needed to embrace it, and he felt like he could do anything. So, he steeled his features as the demon was thrown to the ground, hazel eyes locked on his target. Taking a deep breath, Sam lifted his arm, palm facing the demon as he focused all of his energy on his task.

Power surged through him, making him feel invincible. The demon in front of him couldn't move. Sam had him locked to the spot. His eyes were wide as he stared at the younger Winchester, silently pleading with him not to do this. But Sam didn't care. He wasn't listening to the cries as the demon started to convulse in front of him. Slowly, Sam closed his fist, watching as the orange glow of the demon's skeleton flickered behind it's skin. 

Dead – he'd done it. Quickly, Sam turned his attention to the other demons in the room. Realization dawned on their faces when Sam shot his hand out toward the biggest of the three. As Sam tried to take him down with just his mind, pain exploded through his head. Blood trickled from his nose as he felt his resolve fading. Before he knew it, the first demon who had come into the room tackled him, slamming his head off the floor.

Sam fought – he kicked and screamed, tried to throw punches – anything to keep from being hung back up on that rack. But in the end, he failed. He was too weak to take on the other demons. In order to get out of here, he would have to consume more blood. _A lot_ more blood. And he would do it, too. If it meant that he could escape and get back to Dean, Sam was willing to do whatever the hell it took.

Noise from outside of the room drew Sam's attention to the door. It sounded like a fight was taking place. He could hear the screams of demons outside just before the door swung open. His eyes widened when he saw his brother, covered in blood, dirt and sweat. He refused to allow his mind to believe that Dean was here. It was a trick. It was always a trick.

Moss green eyes landed on Sam, sympathy and rage mixed behind their depths. “Sammy,” Dean breathed, quickly moving to the younger man once he'd slammed the door closed behind himself. “Oh God, Sammy, what did they do to you?” Anger quickly sparked inside of Dean, igniting a fire that he couldn't control. He didn't care what it took – every single one of these bastards were going to die. “It's okay, Sam. I'm gonna get you out of here.”

Slowly, Sam looked down at his body. He was naked from the waist up, and his body was littered with bruises, all in different stages of healing. He had scratches on his cheek, and there was dried blood around his mouth from the first time he'd been forced to drink demon blood. Shaking his head, Sam let out a soft chuckle. “You're not real,” he accused. “This is a trap. You're just...messing with my head again.”

When Sam accused him of not being real, Dean's heart broke. He could only imagine the torture that his brother had been through down here. Apparently the demons liked to make Sam hallucinate that Dean was there. Well, this wasn't a trick. Dean was here, and he was going to save Sam. He didn't try to argue with the younger Winchester as he moved to the table at the opposite end of the room. There, he found the set of keys the demon had left there just moments before. 

Without hesitation, Dean moved to the rack where his brother was chained, quickly unlocking the cuffs to one hand before moving to the next. He was laser focused on getting Sam out of these chains, and getting them the hell out of here. Of course, he had no idea how he was going to get them out because Crowley hadn't come with him. And seeing as how he'd gotten him here, Dean was banking on the demon being his ride out of here. Apparently, he'd been wrong.

As soon as his hand was released, Sam allowed it to fall onto Dean's shoulder. This was it – where he was going to learn that Dean wasn't real. Usually, when Sam tried to touch Dean in any way, he'd pull away from him, or he'd just disappear. But not this time. This time, when Sam's hand landed on Dean, he stayed there. He didn't try to move. All he did was release the other hand, effectively freeing Sam. 

Tears welled up behind Sam's eyes as he looked at his brother. Dean was here. He'd come to Hell for him. In that moment, the feeling of love swelling inside of him was so great, Sam could barely contain it. “Dean?” he breathed, those tears spilling down his cheeks in waves. “Dean, you're really here? You came for me?”

“I'm here, Sammy,” Dean whispered, hand reaching up to cup Sam's cheek. “Of course I came for you. I'd never leave you.” Slowly, taking a chance, Dean leaned in to crush his lips against Sam's. His hand slid behind the younger man's head, fisting gently in Sam's hair. “I'll always come for you, Sammy,” he breathed, panting against Sam's lips. 

Honestly, Sam couldn't even muster up enough strength to tease Dean about his chick flick moment. Sam liked it, actually. It was a nice change when Dean could actually open up and talk about his feelings. “I love you,” Sam said, fingers gripping Dean's body tightly as if he was afraid Dean would disappear at any moment.

Commotion outside drew the Winchester's attention to the door. “I love you, too,” Dean promised his brother, straightening to his full height as he grabbed the knife out of his waistband. “But we gotta get out of here.”

That was a nice thought, but Sam didn't know how. He'd been trying to come up with something, but he hadn't thought of the right thing yet. All he knew was that Mephistopheles could get him out of here, so he figured other demons could as well. “How?” Sam asked, forcing his achy body to stand on its own so Dean could fight without having an extra 200 pounds weighing him down.

Allowing the knife to twirl in his hands, Dean shrugged. “I'm working on it,” he assured Sam just as the door burst open and demons flooded in. Dean managed to gut the first one that grabbed him, but his attention was dragged away when Sam got tackled. “Sammy!” he yelled, not ready for the attack from the new demon in the room that sent him crashing to the floor.

The knife fell from Dean's hands when he hit the ground, drawing a grunt from the older Winchester. His head snapped to the side when a fist landed against his cheek, causing pain to flare through his head. He really hated it when demons got the jump on him. But he couldn't focus. All he could hear was Sam screaming in pain beside him.

Roughly, Dean shoved the demon off him, scrambling for his knife. He was in what Sam joked as _hunter mode_. Dean went there a lot when he was pissed off and there was something to fight. Nothing mattered in the world around him other than getting the bad guys. The knife was hot in his palm as Dean slammed it through the demon's neck that was on top of Sam. He grabbed the guy's jacket and tossed him away from his brother.

Just as the demon who had been on him a few minutes before came at him, Dean turned, moss green eyes locked on the demon's shocked black eyes as he twisted the knife deep into the demon's abdomen. He then turned his attention to Sam, dropping to his knees to check on the younger man. Sam was beat up, but he would live.

Before Dean had a chance to go after the next wave of demons, there was a bright white light that exploded through the room, causing the demons to disintegrate. Pain exploded through Dean's entire body then, starting at his left shoulder before splitting through every nerve ending. His hands groped for Sam, gripping the younger man tightly as his eyes squeezed closed, teeth gritting against the pain.

When the pain finally subsided, Dean allowed his eyes to blink open. The first thing he realized was that they weren't in Hell anymore. The second was the pain still thrumming on his shoulder. “Sammy?” he called, eyes searching for his brother. Relief washed through him when Sam gripped his T-shirt, checking on him to make sure he was okay. “I'm fine,” he assured his brother. “What the hell was that?”

As if on cue, Castiel appeared in front of them. “Dean, what have you done?” he asked, his face contorted into a look of pain.

Seeing Castiel, Dean felt anger bubbling inside of him. “What did I do?” he asked, pushing himself to his feet. “I saved my brother! Something you, jack off, wouldn't help me with!” He knew that the knife in his hand couldn't hurt Castiel, but he slammed it into his gut anyway. At least it made him feel better. “They were _torturing_ him down there, you sonuvabitch!”

“We have bigger problems than that, Dean!” Castiel hollered. “There was a reason we were not sending you down there to get Sam. Lucifer is gathering his forces. His cage has been tampered with and the bindings are weak.”

Lucifer? Great, that was just one more thing to add to the shit show that was their lives, Dean figured. “Yeah? And?” he demanded. “What the hell does the Devil have to do with getting my brother away from demons who want to hurt him?!”

Castiel frowned as he shook his head once more. “You were not supposed to be in Hell,” he argued. “When Sam got you out of your deal, everything was supposed to be okay. The apocalypse was averted. I had you in that room to keep you safe! To keep the world safe!”

Now, Dean was interested. And Castiel was being vague, as usual! “Apocalypse?!” he asked, eyes searching the angel's face. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Again, Castiel shook his head. “It's too late. The apocalypse is nigh. We need to protect the remaining sixty five seals. We cannot allow Lucifer to walk free.”

“What seals? What are you talking about?!” Dean demanded. When Castiel merely shook his head again, Dean grabbed the angel by his shirt. “If you want our help, you're going to have to get us all on the same page here. So start talking.”

Although Castiel didn't have time to explain this to the Winchesters right now, he knew there was no way out of it. He needed to get back to Heaven and regroup with his garrison. “Lilith is going to start breaking seals to free Lucifer from his cage. She couldn't begin her work until the first was broken. And when her plans for you failed, the angels assumed we were saved. And then we heard the news of Sam's kidnapping. We...tried to stop it. But you wouldn't let your brother go.”

Anger surged through Dean again. “Plan for me?” he repeated. “A demon had plans for me? What plans?!”

The angel didn't meet Dean's eyes as he recited a prophecy that had been etched into his mind since before he could remember. “And it is written that the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in Hell. As he breaks, so shall it break.” Eyes landing on Dean once more, Castiel continued, “Those demons you killed in Hell, they were possessing _people_. You shed blood in Hell. When we discovered that you had been sent down there, we laid siege to Hell, and we fought our way to get to you before you—”

“Jump-started the apocalypse?” Dean asked, feeling sick. The worst part was that while he felt bad about apparently breaking the first seal that could bring on the death of the world, he'd make the same decision again. Even knowing what he knew now, he'd save Sam again if he could do it all over again.

Sadly, Castiel answered, “And we were too late.”

Turning his attention back to Castiel, Dean asked, “Why didn't you just leave me there then?” Castiel had been adamant about helping Sam. But by saving Dean, he'd done just that. And the angel hadn't even said anything about the fact that Sam was safe. It was all about Dean.

Again, Castiel frowned at Dean, tilting his head to the side as though he was studying him. “It is not blame that falls on you, Dean,” he assured the older Winchester. “It is fate. The righteous man who begins it is the only one who can finish it. You have to stop it.”

With that, Castiel vanished, the sound of wings flapping the only indication that he had ever been there. Dean searched the air around them as if he was going to see the angel, but to no avail. Slowly, he turned his attention to Sam. The two of them just sat there in silence for a minute, taking in everything that they'd just learned.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Dean slammed the door to the bedroom he and Sam shared behind himself, throwing his jacket onto the bed. Castiel's words kept playing in his head. He'd started the apocalypse – the damn _apocalypse_! All because he was trying to save his brother from a demon. He was having trouble wrapping his head around this.

The door opened before he heard the soft _click_ of it closing again. “Sammy, I don't wanna talk about it,” Dean piped up, not even willing to start that conversation. He had enough on his plate right now. He didn't need it from Sam, too.

“I know,” Sam assured his brother. “I don't wanna talk about it, either.” Slowly, he moved toward the bed, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress. “I just...didn't want to be around Ellen and Bobby. Or Jo, really.” Sighing, he chuckled to himself. “You know that they look at me like I'm some kind of wounded animal now, right? Like...I'm gonna bolt any time they get too close.”

A small frown came to Dean's lips at Sam's words. “They're just worried about you,” he assured the younger man. “They don't mean anything by it.” Slowly, Dean took a seat beside Sam. He wondered briefly to himself if he should take the risk and wrap his arm around his brother. And he hated that he had to think like that. There was never any question about being affectionate before that damn deal Sam made – Dean didn't want there to be a question now.

Taking the chance, Dean wrapped his arm around Sam, not missing the way his brother's whole body tensed before he finally relaxed. Gently, Dean pulled Sam against his side, maneuvering them on the bed so that he was lying down and Sam was tucked closely against him. “Do you wanna tell me what happened?” he asked, fingers carding through Sam's shaggy hair. “Without lying through your teeth this time?”

Really, Sam didn't want to talk about it. But he knew that Dean would keep asking. And it wasn't like he didn't already know what had happened to him. Besides, Sam didn't have to let Dean in on the fact that they'd pumped him full of demon blood. And he surely didn't need to know that since then, Sam had been craving it.

Sam allowed his eyes to slip closed as he took comfort in Dean's petting. “I saw an opportunity to save your soul, and I took it,” Sam answered simply. “We'd been researching for weeks. And we couldn't catch a break. So...I figured that by making a deal, I'd save you.” Sam's fingers played with the amulet around Dean's neck. “I figured he'd just want to kill me. A life for a life, you know. But...he wanted more from me.”

It was getting hard to hold back tears as Sam recalled the events of the week he was trapped with Mephistopheles. “He, um...he made me go out with him a lot,” Sam explained. “He wanted us to act like a couple. A _happy_ couple. And he would ask people to take photos of us.” Sam pressed his finger against the horns of Dean's amulet, letting the sting calm him down. “When I didn't want to do things he asked, he would threaten people in the diners. And...when I would talk to you, he got really mad. He'd give me to Lucifer every night that I talked to you. So Lucifer could...torture me.”

A single tear slid down his cheek as he continued, “But being with Lucifer was nothing compared to what Mephistopheles did to me. He—well, you saw it on the video. But it wasn't just that one time. He...made me give him a blowjob in the bathroom of one of the diners. He threatened to kill our waitress if I didn't. And then...the last night I was with him...he—”

Sam was having trouble choking out the words. Growling softly to himself in anger, Sam forced the words out. “I came. I-I didn't want to...but it was like I couldn't control my body. He was...touching me, and I couldn't...I came.”

It was obvious that Sam felt sick about the fact that the demon had made him have an orgasm. “Hey, Sammy,” Dean whispered, tucking his fingers under Sam's chin so his brother would look at him. “Don't beat yourself up over that. It happens. Just because you came doesn't mean you wanted it. That was just your body's natural reaction to stimulation. It happens.” Chuckling, in an attempt to lighten the mood, Dean assured his brother, “I get hard all of the time without my permission, okay? Your body's gonna do whatever the hell it wants. Regardless of what your brain wants. Okay?”

Surprisingly, talking to Dean about this made him feel a lot better about the situation. “Okay,” he whispered, sniffling softly. His eyes fluttered closed when Dean wiped the tears off his cheeks, Sam taking comfort in the fact that Dean was here with him. And Dean didn't think he was a slut – he wasn't disgusted with Sam because he thought he _wanted_ any part of what happened.

Licking his lips, Sam changed the subject. “S-So, what are we going to do about these seals?” he asked. “If Lilith is trying to break them, then we should go after her, right? Kill her before she can break them and set Lucifer free?”

Although Dean knew this was important, and they should be focusing on a solution to their current problem, Dean really didn't want to talk about this. “Yeah, I guess so,” he answered, adjusting the pillow under his head. “But that means we have to work with Captain angel douchebag, which I'm not all that thrilled about.”

“I know you're not,” Sam assured his brother. “But if it's what we have to do, then we'll do it. Whatever it takes to keep Lucifer locked up, right?” Besides, Sam was already on a mission to kill Lilith. Lucifer wasn't going to leave him alone until he did. Which meant Mephistopheles was probably after Sam right now. “I, um, I'm gonna go get something to drink,” Sam explained, slowly pushing himself off of Dean. “Do you want anything?”

Dean shook his head at the offer, instead rolling onto his side and closing his eyes. He was beat. He'd had one hell of a day, and he knew the days ahead weren't going to be any better. Honestly, Dean just wanted to sleep for a week.

Once Sam was downstairs, he felt like his skin was crawling. Quickly, he pulled out his phone, dialing the number he had for Ruby. An unfamiliar voice answered the phone, causing Sam to frown. “Ruby? Is that you?” he asked, sighing in relief when the answer was yes. “I need to see you. Meet me at the old warehouse about ten miles from Bobby's place. I'm on my way now.”

With that, Sam hung up, grabbing his coat before he headed out the door. Hot wiring one of Bobby's old cars was easy enough, and Sam was on the road in about five minutes. It didn't take him long before he was at the warehouse. Another car pulled up a few minutes after him, and a pretty brunette stepped out. 

Sam watched warily as the woman walked toward him, waiting for her to get close. The demon killing knife made his back tingle where it touched his skin – he was ready if this wasn't Ruby. “You changed your vessel?” Sam asked, a deep frown on his lips as he waited for the answer.

“Well, I didn't have a choice,” Ruby answered, rolling her chocolate eyes. “My other vessel had a run-in with an angel. Sort of needed the change of scenery, I guess.” Looking around at the dead end road the warehouse was on, Ruby asked, “Why did you call me, Sam? You sounded...urgent on the phone.”

Ruby wasn't wrong. This was kind of an urgent situation. “We need to talk,” Sam explained, stepping aside and opening the door to the warehouse for the demon. Once she stepped in, Sam followed suit, allowing the door to slam closed behind him.

After about twenty five minutes, Sam had Ruby all caught up to speed. Her only response had been wow, which Sam kind of agreed with. “I just can't figure out why Lucifer wanted me to kill her,” Sam explained. “I mean, if she's going to get him out of the cage, then why does he want her dead?”

“Well...that was before Dean actually broke the seal, right?” Ruby asked, mimicking Sam's nod. “So, maybe he figured that she wasn't useful. If no one broke the seal, then Lilith couldn't break any of the other ones, either. Lucifer is a very spiteful angel, from what I've heard. He'd want her dead for not being able to play her part.”

That made sense. “And now, he probably wants her around to break the seals and release him?” he mused to himself. Sam knew what he needed to do. He had to kill Lilith. “I have to stop her, then,” he mumbled, eyes ticking to Ruby. “And I'm going to need your help. Lucifer said that there's only one way to kill Lilith. He said that I was the only one who could do it. And...I have to use my-my powers.”

Ruby frowned as she listened to Sam, biting into her bottom lip. “I know about your powers, Sam,” she assured the younger Winchester. “Every demon knows about it. And I know what you need.” Slowly, Ruby reached into her boot, pulling out a knife. She slid the knife over her arm, watching as the blood started to flow from the wound. “And I'm going to help you. Because I want that bitch dead just as much as you do.”

The smell of blood filled the small room, causing Sam's breath to pick up. He knew this was wrong. He knew that if Dean ever found out about what he was doing, he'd hate him. But somehow, none of that mattered as Sam reached for Ruby's wrist, tugging the demon closer to him. His tongue dragged across his lips as his eyes ticked up to meet Ruby's, silently asking for permission to drink. When he received no resistance, Sam lowered his head, lips closing over the wound.

Power exploded through Sam again, much like it had when the demons were shooting the blood into his system with a syringe. He could feel himself getting stronger, sharper by the second. A soft moan escaped him as he sucked harder, pulling Ruby closer to him. Her hand carded through his hair, and Sam finally realized what he was doing.

Quickly, he pulled away, shoving Ruby gently so she knew that he was finished and he didn't want her coming too close. “Thank you,” Sam whispered, wiping the back of his hand across his lips in case there was any blood there. “I...um...we'll have to do that again. Probably soon. I'll call you when I need you.”

With that, Sam all but bolted from the warehouse. He folded himself into the car that he'd stolen, a deep frown on his lips. A part of him couldn't believe that he was doing this. But he knew, deep down, he knew this was the right thing. They had to stop Lilith. At all costs. Lilith was the key to opening the cage – and if she was dead, she couldn't open the cage. Sam just kept telling himself that the whole time he drove back to Bobby's house.

**~~**

Dean threw his duffel bag onto the bed as he walked into the motel room, growling in frustration. “I _hate_ him, Sam!” Dean yelled, feeling the tension just rolling off of him in waves. “First, the feathered dick tells me that he needs to talk to me in private. That he has something important to tell me. And then, he disappears! And when he comes back, he has the gall to tell me that he doesn't serve me?!”

A few weeks had passed since Lilith started breaking the seals, and Castiel had been away for almost twelve days. Sam knew that his brother hated the angel, but he tried to stay out of it. “Dean, come on,” he started, shaking his head. “We have bigger things to worry about than Castiel. Lilith is almost done breaking the seals. She has one, maybe two left before the final showdown. We _need_ to find her.”

“Let the angels find her,” Dean spat. “This is their war.” Dean hadn't been worried about the seals, or what Lilith was doing, or any of that shit. Over the last few weeks, Dean had been laser focused on finding Mephistopheles. The bastard was going to pay for what he had done to Sam, and there was nothing in this world that was going to stop Dean from finding him and dealing out a proper amount of pain.

That's why they were in this no-name little town right now. Dean had a run-in with a demon who had been very chatty in hopes that he didn't get murdered afterward. So, Dean let him talk – he let him spill his guts about the crossroads demon who had attacked the younger Winchester. The demon gave up his location, and his plans to find Sam again and take him back down to Hell to be his forever. He'd told Dean about Crowley's plans to kill Mephistopheles once he found him, too. And Dean vowed that he'd get there first. This was _his_ kill. And no one was taking that away from him.

In the end, the demon had given him all he needed to know before Dean gutted him like a fish. And now, Dean was here, and ready for a little revenge. His brother wasn't the same after Mephistopheles had grabbed him. Even now, Sam was moody, and he was on edge all of the time. He barely touched Dean anymore, which was just not acceptable. 

Of course, he knew that killing Mephistopheles wasn't going to change anything. Sam was still traumatized, and there was no easy fix for that. It was just going to take time. But Dean was going to enjoy killing that demon, nonetheless.

He jumped a little when he felt hands on his shoulders, head turning slightly to look at his brother. “What're you doing?” he asked, his voice a mere whisper. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy what Sam was doing, it was just that he was a little shocked. After weeks of Sam showing no signs of wanting anything to do with him other than their brotherly relationship, and even that was strained, Sam was all of a sudden massaging his shoulders.

Sam hadn't really thought about it before he was moving, his hands on Dean's shoulders. “You...looked tense,” Sam answered, his voice just as low as Dean's. “I thought...I don't know. Do-Do you want me to stop?” He didn't want to stop. Lately, he'd been drinking more and more of Ruby's blood to prepare for the final showdown between himself and Lilith, and it was doing things to him. It made him horny – all of the time. And Ruby had offered to help him with that problem, but Sam always refused. He didn't want her. He wanted Dean.

Leaning back into Sam's touch, Dean adamantly shook his head. “Don't stop,” he pleaded. “Please don't stop.” His eyes slipped closed as a deep moan escaped his parted lips. Sam's fingers dug into his muscles just right, leaving Dean feeling sated and a lot less sore. “God, Sammy,” he breathed, head falling back to rest on Sam's shoulder. His cock twitched in his jeans, begging for release. But he wasn't going to take it there – he'd let Sam make the first move on that front.

When Dean's head fell on his shoulder, Sam leaned in, lips closing around his brother's pulse point as he sucked the skin into his mouth gently. He smiled softly when his brother almost whimpered, head turning to offer Sam better access. “Dean,” he breathed, breaths panting out against his brother's spit slick skin. “I need you. Please, Dean...I-I need you.”

That was all Dean needed to hear. Without hesitation, Dean turned toward Sam, lips crushing against the younger Winchester's desperately. Their hands groped and grabbed for one another, pushing and pulling at clothing as the kiss continued. Before long, both men were naked. Dean's hands moved to Sam's hips, jerking the younger man against his body tightly as Sam's fingers bit into his shoulders.

Only when the need for air was too strong did they break the kiss. Their breaths were panting out of them as Sam quickly turned Dean toward the closest bed, shoving his brother down onto the mattress. He dropped to his knees in front of Dean, his lips closing around his brother's hard cock in one go. Dean hissed in his breath when Sam took him into his mouth, his hand automatically moving to fist in Sam's shaggy hair.

It wasn't long before Sam was pulling off Dean's cock, a loud, wet _pop_ sounding through the room. Sam made sure not to touch Dean's spit slick member with his body as he moved. He didn't want to wait for his brother to grab lube, so that was all he was getting. His hand pressed against the center of Dean's chest, shoving the older man back against the mattress, hard. He straddled Dean then, head bowing so he could press desperate, wet kisses to Dean's chest, lips trailing down to his abdomen.

Dean's head turned toward the duffel on the other bed. The lube was in there, and he had no idea how Sam expected him to get to it if he was on top of him. “Sammy,” he groaned, eyes squeezing closed as Sam traced every line of his tattoo with his tongue before he sucked Dean's pebbled nipple between his teeth, biting gently. “Fuck...baby...lube. 'S over there in the duffel.”

“I don't care,” Sam argued, shaking his head as he pulled back to stare down at Dean. “We don't need it.” Turning at the waist, Sam gripped the base of his brother's hard cock. His head fell back, and his eyes squeezed closed in pleasure when Sam slowly began lowering himself onto Dean's member. He took it slow, inch by agonizingly slow inch, until his brother was fully sheathed inside him. Only then did he release the base of Dean's cock, his hands moving to press palms flat against Dean's chest as his head fell forward.

As soon as he was buried to the hilt inside of Sam, Dean felt like he was going to lose it. They hadn't done this in so long – Dean felt like a fifteen year old boy getting laid for the first time. After all, this was the most action he had gotten in weeks. It wasn't like he'd gone out and cheated on Sam – he'd never do that. So, he'd just had his hand to keep him company – and Sam was _so_ much better than his own palm.

He had to fight every part of his body to stay still underneath Sam, Dean not wanting to move too quickly and hurt Sam. And he didn't want to scare the younger man, either. After all, Sam had been raped by a demon just over a month before – Dean figured that was probably still fresh in his mind. So, he waited for Sam to make the first move. His brother was in charge here for a change. And honestly, Dean kind of liked it.

Slowly, Sam wiggled his hips experimentally against Dean, groaning as pleasure shot through him. “Ungh...Dean,” Sam breathed, chest rising and falling heavily as his breaths panted out of him. Using the mattress for leverage, Sam rocked on Dean's dick, getting bolder with each downward motion until he was all but slamming down against Dean. His hands groped at Dean's shoulders, short, blunt nails leaving scratches against Dean's tanned skin. “C'mere,” he pleaded, eyes locked on Dean's. “Please...k-kiss me, Dean, please?”

Without hesitation, Dean lifted his upper body off the mattress and crushed his lips against Sam's. His arms wrapped around the younger man's back, pulling Sam impossibly closer as his brother used his cock for his own pleasure. God, it was hot. This was a side of Sam that Dean didn't see all that often. Desperate and needy mixed with demanding and controlling – it looked good on him. So good that Dean had to try extra hard not to lose it too soon.

When the kiss broke, Sam's head fell forward, his forehead resting against Dean's. “God, Dean...” he panted, his cock rubbing against his brother's hard abdomen with each thrust. “Harder. Dean, please...God, fuck me harder.”

Dean nearly lost it when Sam started begging him. His feet pressed against the mattress as he bucked his hips, thrusting up to meet each of Sam's thrusts. He growled softly when Sam bit into his bottom lip, Dean surging forward and crushing their lips together, tongue shoving past Sam's teeth to tangle with his own. Sam was still begging him to go harder when the kiss broke, causing Dean's lust to spike.

One hand pressed against Sam's back to support him, Dean kicked off the mattress, effectively flipping the two of them over so that he was on top of the younger man. He caught himself with his free hand so that he didn't crush his brother, his legs scrambling on the sheets until he was kneeling over Sam. His hips pistoned inside Sam with brutal force, Dean growling with pleasure as Sam's fingers dug into his back.

“Ohmygod, Dean,” Sam slurred, hips thrusting back to meet each of Dean's thrusts. “M'close. Keep going...don't stop.” Sam wrapped his legs around Dean as his right hand moved to cover the branded handprint on Dean's shoulder. He hated that thing – Castiel's mark on his brother. Dean was his. “I love you, Dean,” Sam ground out, eyes locked with his brother's. “Do you love me?”

For a second, Dean didn't register that Sam was asking him a question. It was weird. Usually, Sam didn't ask questions like that while they were in the middle of having sex. “What?” he asked, brows knit in confusion. He realized then that Sam's hand was covering the burn on his shoulder, anger bubbling inside of Dean. He fucking hated that thing. He'd tried to get rid of it, but nothing worked. He hated having Castiel's mark on him. He only wanted Sam. It was always just Sam. “Of course I love you.”

Hearing Dean confirm his love for him, Sam felt his balls draw up close against his body. His orgasm ripped through him violently, his fingers digging into Dean's skin where he held him. He felt Dean's body stilling above him mere seconds later, the younger man groaning softly as his brother shuddered in pleasure above him. 

Dean barely remembered to roll off of Sam when his orgasm subsided, breaths panting out of him as he lay beside his brother. “Wow,” Dean breathed, eyes ticking over to Sam when he realized that he'd said it out loud. “I missed that.”

Letting out a breathy chuckle, Sam nodded. “Yeah, me too,” he assured his brother. Turning on his side, Sam cuddled up against Dean's body, head resting on his brother's chest. “M'sleepy,” he mumbled, eyes slipping closed when Dean's fingers began carding through Sam's hair. Before he knew it, sleep was pulling him into unconsciousness.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Dean glared at the man across the room with the sapphire blue eyes, waiting for him to make a move to leave. He'd been watching him for hours. The man really liked his damn coffee. It was getting old. When he'd left the motel, Sam was still sleeping, so Dean figured it was as good a time as any. Crowley had told him where he could find the demon he was seeking, and now, Dean was ready for a little revenge.

At first, Crowley didn't like the idea of letting Dean have Mephistopheles. But after a little convincing on Dean's part, he finally got what he wanted. Now, he was waiting for the demon to leave this damn diner so he could take him and dispose of him like he deserved.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the demon stood and walked out the front door. Dean tossed a few bills down on the table for the coffee, and the pie, before he headed out the door after him. He raised his gun in the middle of the street, not caring who saw him and fired off a shot. The bullet hit its mark, tearing through the demon's calf and sending him to his knee.

Not giving the demon a chance to recover, Dean stormed over to him. His hands gripped the back of the demon's jacket, hauling him to his feet. Civilians were scattering out of his way as Dean all but dragged Mephistopheles to the Impala. Without a word, Dean threw the demon into the trunk, smiling as he slammed it closed, effectively locking Mephistopheles inside with a Devil's Trap.

Once the demon was in his car, Dean sped off down the road. There was an abandoned cabin a few hours away from here – it was the perfect spot to torture and kill a demon. The fact that Dean thought like that didn't even phase him. All he cared about right now was making this bastard pay for what he'd done to his brother.

He hauled ass and made it to the cabin in record time – just under four hours. Dean's body was vibrating with rage as he dragged Mephistopheles from the trunk and tossed him into the cabin. Inside, there was a Devil's Trap painted on the ceiling, making sure Mephistopheles wasn't going anywhere. There was just one more thing he needed as an insurance policy. 

Reaching into his pocket, Dean pulled out his lighter and a small ring. Slowly, his eyes on Mephistopheles the whole time, he heated up the brand. “Do you know who I am?” he asked, smirking when Mephistopheles nodded. “You hurt my brother. And then went back on your deal and dragged him down to Hell to hurt him some more when you were finished. Now, you're going to pay for that.”

Mephistopheles growled in pain when Dean pressed the hot metal to his skin, eyes bleeding to black. “You sonuvabitch!” he yelled, yanking his arm back once it was released. Looking down at his arm, he felt fear coil in his belly. Dean had branded him with a binding link, effectively trapping him in this meat suit.

“Can't have you trying to smoke out when I'm not finished with you,” Dean sneered. It took him a minute, and he received quite a few jabs for his efforts, but he finally managed to get Mephistopheles tied to a chair. Ruby's knife slid from his waistband as a smirk came to Dean's lips. “Let's play.”

A wide smile came to Mephistopheles' lips as he watched Dean set up what he could only imagine was a torture station. “What's this, Dean?” he asked, chuckling softly. “Are you going to torture me? For hurting little Sammy?” Black eyes locked with Dean's as he spat, “Trust me, he liked every minute of it. Sammy's a little slut...just like his big brother.”

Dean's fist flew through the air, connecting hard against Mephistopheles' cheek. “Don't you dare call him that,” Dean warned. “It's _Sam_. And I don't believe a single word coming out of your mouth.” Slowly, Dean moved toward the table, casually pouring holy water on the blade of one of the knives he had sitting there. 

The blade slid into Mephistopheles' abdomen like it was butter. His skin sizzled from the holy water, the demon growling in pain. When Dean twisted the knife, it elicited a scream from Mephistopheles that pleased the older Winchester. “You're going to regret every second of your time with Sam,” Dean assured the demon, pulling the knife from his gut. “I'm going to make sure of it. Because right now, all I have is time. And I intend to drag this out _very_ painfully.”

Dean played with his toys for hours, reveling in the screams he got from the demon. But now, Mephistopheles was getting weak – he was getting desperate. “He begged me not to touch him, you know?” he spat, smirking at Dean. “You should have seen the look on his face when I told him that if he tried to defy me, I'd bring you down instead and play with you.” Chuckling, Mephistopheles spat blood onto the floor. “He's just so adorable when he's scared, isn't he, Dean?”

Angrily, Dean dumped salt into his palm, moving toward Mephistopheles and clapping his hand over his mouth. The demon writhed and screamed against him, but Dean kept his hand held tightly over his mouth. “You talk too much,” he growled, waiting for Mephistopheles to stop moving before he finally pulled his hand away.

As soon as Dean's hand was pulled away, Mephistopheles coughed and sputtered, spitting bloody salt out of his mouth. His face was a mess of blood and cuts, bruises littering his jaw, and his left eye was swollen shut. “You wanna know what my favorite part was, Dean?” he asked, panting out his breaths as he glared at Dean with his good eye. “My favorite part was when we forced pure little Sammy to drink demon blood.”

Horrified, Dean kept his back facing Mephistopheles so he couldn't see the surprise on his face. Sam hadn't mentioned anything about demon blood. Dean thought Sam had told him the whole truth, but apparently his brother had left out some important details. 

The tension in Dean's shoulders could be seen from a mile away, drawing a smile to Mephistopheles' lips. “Sammy didn't tell you about that, did he, Dean?” he taunted. “I can see inside your head, big brother. I know the dirty little things you and Sam did last night.” His smile widened when Dean turned to lock eyes with him. “He never would have done that if he wasn't all hopped up on demon blood. Mmm...better than momma's milk. Our boy's chugging it like crazy. Getting stronger – strong enough to fight Lilith. He can kill demons with his mind, you know? He's _really_ grown from his time with me in Hell.”

Without thinking, Dean grabbed Ruby's knife, closing the gap between himself and Mephistopheles. His hands fisted in the demon's suit jacket, pulling him close. Mephistopheles laughed in his face. “I did wish it would have been my blood to get him there,” he continued, smirking at Dean. “But I guess Ruby is just as good as anyone.”

Before Dean could retaliate, Castiel appeared behind him. “Dean,” he warned, frowning at the older Winchester. “We do not have time. We have to find Sam. Now.”

Dean matched Castiel's frown as he turned his attention to the angel. “What?” he asked, shaking his head. “Why? He's at Bobby's house. He's fine.”

“No, he is not,” Castiel answered, moving closer to Dean. “All of the seals have fallen. Lilith is in place to break the last seal. We have to stop him, Dean, from killing Lilith.”

Confusion was clear on Dean's face as he tried to process everything that he had just learned. First, Sam was apparently guzzling demon blood – Dean wasn't sure if he should believe that. Demons lied all of the time. Second, Sam wasn't at Bobby's house. And now, Lilith was about to jump start the apocalypse because the angels couldn't handle the simple task of keeping the seals from breaking. Damn, it must be Thursday. “But Lilith's gonna break the final seal,” Dean explained, still clearly confused.

When Castiel went to touch his forehead, Dean flinched away. He wasn't done here. Turning his attention to Mephistopheles, he frowned as the demon chuckled once more. “Oops,” Mephistopheles laughed. “I guess my team won. Oh well, better luck next time guys.”

Without warning, Dean thrust Ruby's knife into Mephistopheles' chest, twisting it as he watched the light go out behind the demon's eye. He pulled the knife from the demon's chest as he turned his attention to Castiel. “Why do we have to stop Sam? If he's killing Lilith before she can break the seal, that's a good thing, right?”

This time, when Castiel reached for him, Dean didn't try to stop him. “Lilith _is_ the final seal,” he explained. “She dies, the end begins. Dean, you have to stop it.” With that, Castiel pressed his fingers to Dean's forehead, sending him to Ilchester, Illinois to stop his brother from making a grave mistake.

**~~**

Sam frowned at his laptop screen, unable to believe what he was looking at. “You got to be kidding me,” he muttered, drawing Ruby's attention to him. When she asked what he had found, Sam explained, “Get this. St. Mary's – abandoned in '72 after a priest disemboweled eight nuns.”

A small chuckle escaped Ruby as she crossed her arms over her chest. “What's black and white, and red all over?” she smirked. However, when Sam assured her that wasn't funny, she merely rolled her eyes. Clearly they didn't have the same sense of humor.

“The priest said it wasn't his fault,” Sam continued to read. “He said a demon made him do it. And that he even remembered the demon's name.” He turned his attention to the younger brunette when Ruby seemed interested. “Azazel.”

Slowly, Ruby nodded, letting Sam know she was listening. “Wow. So, Lilith, Yellow-Eyes – all the A-listers are paying visits,” she mused. “Certainly gives the joint credibility.”

There was no argument from Sam there. “As a place where the final seal goes down.” He couldn't believe it. After weeks of trying to get on the same page as Lilith, he'd finally done it. He knew where she was going to be, and when she was going to be there. Of course, they were cutting it a little close to the end game, but better late than never, he supposed.

It didn't take much to convince Ruby. “Well, it's good enough for me,” she shrugged, moving to the coffee table in the middle of the room. “Let's pack up Nurse Betty and hit the road.” She stopped abruptly when Sam started stuttering, obviously annoyed. He wanted to find a new demon, and they didn't have time to waste. She'd already explained that she didn't have enough juice to make Sam strong enough to kill Lilith, and _still_ he was letting his emotions get in the way of this. “Sam, no,” she argued. “That blubbery “don't hurt me” crap – it's just an act. She's playing you.”

When Sam continued to argue with her, Ruby couldn't hide her annoyance. “Even if she's not, there's still a hell-bitch snoozing in there,” she reminded him. “I mean, come on, it's not like you haven't done this before, right?”

Without giving Sam a chance to respond, she grabbed the demon, tossing her against Sam's chest as she headed out of the room. Sam followed behind her, wrestling with the woman until he managed to get her into the trunk. He slammed it shut, his breaths panting out of him as he continued to tell himself that he was saving the world. Lilith had to be stopped, and this was the only way to do it.

As they drove toward the convent, the nurse in the trunk kept screaming – pleading with them to let her go. She was beating on the trunk in a desperate attempt to break free, and it was giving Sam a headache. “God, I wish she would just shut up,” Sam ground out, fingers rubbing against his temple as he stared out the passenger seat. Anything to escape the noise of her yelling.

“Well, that can be arranged,” Ruby assured Sam, stepping on the gas pedal a little harder when he just glared at her. “I don't get it. All the demons you cut with the knife – what do you think happens to the host? How is this any different?”

Sam wasn't sure what Ruby's angle was here, but she wasn't helping at all. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” he hissed. He wished Dean was here. Dean would tell him what to do. Dean _always_ knew what to do. 

Again, Ruby rolled her eyes at Sam's words. “I know that you're having a tough time here, Sam,” Ruby started, trying to act sympathetic. “But we're in the final lap, here. Now is not the time to grow a persqueeter.”

Angrily, Sam turned his attention from the window to Ruby. “Would you drop the friggin' attitude?” he demanded, not sure why she was acting like even more of a bitch than usual. “I'm about to bleed and drink and innocent woman. While she watches.” He barely registered that Ruby reiterated that he was going to save the world in the process. “I don't know. I-I just...I'm starting to think...maybe we should try to find a different way.”

Pressing against the gas pedal even harder, forcing the car to accelerate faster, Ruby argued, “Sam, there is no other way! Besides, it's way too close to be trying to find another solution right now! Lilith is going to break the final seal in less than an hour!” When Sam didn't answer her, Ruby felt fear growing inside her. “We're gonna see this through, right, Sam?” she demanded. Again, no answer. “Sam?!”

All Sam could think about was the screaming and the pounding that was happening in the truck. If the demon had just let Cindy sleep, this wouldn't be so bad. But Sam knew this was the demon's own form of torture – make him drink her while the innocent woman watches. And he knew that he didn't have a choice. Deep down, Sam knew this was the only way. Ruby was right, they didn't have time to try to figure anything else out. Besides, that was a long shot, anyway.

When the car slowed to a stop in front of a road sign that read _Saint Mary's Convent – 2 miles_ , Sam knew his time was up. They both climbed out of the car, Sam leaning against the passenger door as he tried to gather every ounce of courage he had inside him. 

“Sam, it's time,” Ruby explained, interrupting the younger man's thoughts. “Are we doing this or not?” Silently, she begged Sam to say yes.

He wasn't ready. Sam needed more time. He didn't know what to do. “Give me a minute to think,” Sam answered, once again trying to block out the way Cindy was screaming. He snapped when Ruby said his name. “Give me a damn minute, Ruby!” He could hear her mumble that he better think fast, Sam shaking his head at how crass she was being.

For the second time that night, Sam wished that Dean was here. Sam was standing at the end zone, ball in hand, ready to score, and he had no idea what to do. On the one hand, he had to bleed a woman and drink her dry to kill the demon before she broke the last seal. On the other hand, he could walk away. He could go in there and he could try to kill Lilith without his powers. And he would probably get crushed. 

Sam clenched his teeth together as he finally made a decision. “Do it,” he breathed, eyes closing as he heard Ruby open the trunk. Cindy's screams got louder as Ruby dragged her over to Sam, tossing her in his arms once more. He felt sick. He didn't want to do this.

However, as soon as the scent of the demon blood hit him, Sam was gone. His eyes locked on Ruby's as she pocketed the knife she'd used to cut into Cindy's jugular. Ruby smiled as she watched Sam dip his head, sucking at the wound for all he was worth. 

Once the last drop had slid down Sam's throat, he felt power surging through him. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. He walked with confidence through the doors of the convent, taking out every one of Lilith's minions without even batting an eye. Damn, he could get used to this. When Lilith saw him, she raised her hand, slamming the door between them shut.

The door didn't hold Sam back for long. He entered the sanctuary and flung out his hand, sending Lilith flying across the room and slamming into the alter. Sam, with Ruby on his heels, advanced on Lilith. He flung his hand out once more, sending Lilith flying toward the alter, trapping her there with his mind. 

While Sam's attention was on Lilith, Dean rounded the corner, horrified as he watched the scene play out in front of him. Ruby locked eyes with Dean from across the room, a wide smile forming on her lips. Shooting out her hand, the doors to the sanctuary close, stopping Dean from reaching his brother.

Slowly, Sam walked toward Lilith, like a panther stalking its prey. His heart was beating so loud that he could hear it pumping in his ears. “I've been waiting for this...” he sneered, “...for a very long time.” Anger surged through him when Lilith taunted him – telling him to give her his best shot. Like he wasn't strong enough. Like he wasn't about to wipe her out of existence. Like she hadn't already lost this fight.

With determination, Sam reached out his hand once more, throwing his power at Lilith. White light shined on Lilith as she cried out in pain. However, somehow, through the heavy pounding of blood in his ears, Sam thought he heard Dean calling for him. Slowly, he lowered his hand, the light fading as the heart beat in his ears slowed.

Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion as Sam turned his attention to the closed door. He didn't remember closing that when he walked in. He could have sworn he heard Dean's voice. And was that pounding on the door? “Dean?” he breathed, obviously confused.

From beside him, Sam could hear Ruby screaming at him, but he couldn't make out the words. She sounded distant and faint. Maybe he'd made a mistake. Maybe he should just walk away. He should go find Dean. His brother would know what to do.

Laughter from behind him drew his attention back to Lilith. What the hell was so funny. “You turned yourself into a freak,” she chuckled. “A monster. And now you're not gonna bite? I'm sorry, but that's honestly adorable.”

Hatred quickly flooded any other thoughts out of Sam's mind. Who the hell was this bitch to call him a freak? A monster? _They'd_ done this to him! Demons, and Lucifer – they'd forced him to get addicted to the blood. And now, he was going to use that addiction for good. Lucifer was going to stay right where he was – locked in a cage where he belonged. 

Again, the heart beat in his ears quickened, blocking out any other sound in the room. Facing Lilith head on, Sam raised his hand again. His eyes bled to black as he concentrated all of his power and hurled it at Lilith. She convulsed against the attack, her breaths panting out of her a few times before her body finally started flickering and glowed that familiar orange color. Finally, she went limp, Sam's eyes returning to their usual hazel hue as he lowered his hand.

The sound of the heart beat in his ears slowed as he watched Lilith's body fall to the floor. Blood was pouring out of Lilith's body in a steady stream, causing Sam to frown in confusion. His eyes followed the blood as it flowed in what looked like a very deliberate direction. “What the hell?” he asked, eyes ticking up to Ruby when she breathed that she couldn't believe it. “Ruby, what's going on?”

“You did it,” Ruby praised. “I mean, it was a little touch-and-go there for a while, but...you did it.” She stared at Sam in complete awe when he asked what he'd done. “You opened the door. And now he's free at last. He's free at last!”

Sam felt sick. How was this happening? No, this wasn't happening. “No,” he breathed, obviously in denial. “No, no, no. No, he – Lilith – I stopped her. I killed her!”

She could barely think straight. Everything was happening in their favor, and it was beautiful. “As it is written that the first demon shall be the last seal,” she recited, watching as Sam's hands moved to his head. “And you bust her open. Now guess who's coming to dinner.”

When Sam breathed about God, Ruby could barely contain her excitement. “Guess again.” She ignored the sounds of Dean trying to break through the door just feet away from her, moving closer to Sam. “You don't even know how hard this was! All the demons out for my head. No one knew. I was the best of those sons of bitches! The most loyal! Not even Alastair knew! Only Lilith!” She could see that her speech wasn't really interesting Sam, but she didn't care. She deserved some credit. “Yeah, I;m sure you're a little angry right now, but, I mean, come on, Sam! Even you have to admit – I'm-I'm awesome!”

Listening to Ruby toot her own horn about how she'd played him had Sam's anger spiking again. “You bitch,” he accused. “You lying bitch!” He thrust his hand forward, ready to kill Ruby just like he'd done Lilith. However, instead of Ruby getting hurt, Sam felt pain rush through his whole body. His hand clutched at his head as he dropped to the floor, obviously confused. 

Not even pretending to care that Sam had just tried to take her out, Ruby warned, “Don't hurt yourself, Sammy. It's useless. You shot your payload on the boss.”

He didn't understand what was happening. “The blood,” he started, glaring at Ruby. “You poisoned me!”

Without thinking, Ruby kneeled in front of Sam. “No,” she argued. “It wasn't the blood. It was you...and your choices. I just gave you the options, and you chose the right path every time. You didn't need the feather to fly, you had it in you the whole time, Dumbo!” She could see that Sam was still angry, but she wanted to make this better. Slowly, she cupped his cheeks, running her hands through Sam's hair in an attempt to calm him down. “I know it's hard to see it now...but this is a miracle. So long coming. Everything Azazel did, and Lilith did. Just to get you here. And you were the only one who could do it.”

Unable to shake the sickness, Sam didn't even try to fight Ruby when she started petting his hair. All he could think about was the fact that he'd just released Lucifer from his cage. Dean had always said the road to Hell was paved with good intentions – he was right. “Why?” he asked, broken hazel orbs searching Ruby's face. “W-Why me?”

When Ruby spoke this time, she actually showed emotion as she continued to pet Sam's hair. “Because...” she answered softly. “...because it had to be you, Sammy. It always had to be you. You saved us. You set him free. And he's gonna be grateful. He's gonna repay you in ways that you can't even imagine.”

Finally, Dean broke through the door, not wasting a second as he drew the knife he'd stolen from Ruby. It was still red with Mephistopheles' blood. There was murder in Dean's eyes as he approached Ruby.

“You're too late,” Ruby smirked, standing between Dean and Sam. 

Dean continued to approach Ruby, not stopping for anything. “I don't care,” he assured her, his voice cold. Behind Ruby, Sam stood, grabbing her arms and holding her in place as Dean slammed the knife into her belly, twisting it as he watched her flicker with light. Her body crumpled to the floor as soon as Sam released her.

Now that Ruby was dead, Sam could finally get a good look at his brother. “I'm sorry,” he whispered brokenly, allowing Dean to pull him into his arms. As they hugged, the blood pouring out of Lilith finished the pattern it was making. A brilliant white light shot up from the central point of the pattern, and the whole room began to shake.

Pulling back from the hug, Dean's hand still fisted in Sam's jacket, the older Winchester tugged at his brother. “Sammy, let's go,” he ordered, eyes locked on the light. The same monotone sound that Castiel had described as his voice sounded through the room as the light became brighter.

Not making a move to leave, Sam clutched at Dean's shirt, staring at the light. He'd done this. Lucifer was rising because he'd made a bad decision. “Dean,” he breathed, his whole body trembling. “He's coming.”


End file.
